








THE OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 
OF 


SOPHOCLES 


CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS 
Cc. F. CLAY, MANAGER 
LONDON : FETTER LANE, E.C. 4 





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THE OEDIPUS TYRANNUS 
OF 


SOPHOCLES 


TRANSLATED AND EXPLAINED 


BY 
J. T. SHEPPARD, M.A. 


FELLOW OF KING’S COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE 


CAMBRIDGE 
AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS 
1920 








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SUMMARY OF THE PREFACE 
AND INTRODUCTION 


PAGE 

PREFACE . . ; : ‘ ; : . ‘ : . ak 
The moral of three performances of the Oedipus: the sensationalism of 
Professor Reinhardt: the restraint of the Cambridge performance: the art 
of M. Mounet-Sully. The aim of this translation and commentary. The 
controversy of the modern interpreters : tragic justice or tragedy: the theory 
of the irrelevant chorus: the importance of the Creon scene: the general 
effect of the lyrics: the ‘sin’ of Oedipus: the ‘intolerable’ end. 


INTRODUCTION 
CHAPTER I. THE PREPARATION OF THE AUDIENCE xv 


The legend of Oedipus: the outline familiar, the detail vague: the re- 
miniscences of epic: the riddle: the Theban trilogy of Aeschylus: the 
inherited evil: the first scene of the Seem, and its analogy to the opening 
scene of the Oedipus: the importance of ‘good words’ and the self- 
abandonment of Eteocles recalled in our play: the moral contrast, analogous 
to the contrast between the Z/ectra and the Oresteta. 


CHAPTER II. THE INNOCENCE OF OEDIPUS . ‘ XxiV 


Oedipus recognises that he is polluted and infectious: the taint of bloodshed, 
parricide and incest: how far is this relevant to our enquiry? Attempts to 
find some adequate déuapria have failed: Sophocles has made the hero even 
technically innocent. The clear distinction drawn between the involuntary 
acts and the self-blinding: the notion of unintentional crime: the doctrine of 
Simonides: its truth: its inadequate expression: it is not incompatible with 
morality. If innocence then suffers, what of the justice of the gods? The 
ancient problem of evil: how far the various solutions appear in our play: 
the tragic gods of Sophocles, the personification of ‘circumstance’: the 
daluwv of Oedipus. The higher and the lower moral application: Theognis 
and Pindar: the higher application summed up by the word Sophrosyne: 
the truth of the tragic religion. 


CHAPTER III. THE TYRANT. . . : ‘ xli 


The chorus 863 ff. variously interpreted: does not express the view of 
Sophocles: does not refer to contemporary politics, but deals with old and 
familiar themes: has been thought to be half-relevant, but discursive: this 
view forbidden by the form of the composition: the truth is that it expresses 
the fears of the chorus for Oedipus: irreverence and impurity suggested by the 
preceding dialogue: but ‘no criticism in the world’ can allege that Oedipus 


SUMMARY OF THE PREFACE AND INTRODUCTION vii 


PAGE 
is a lover of unjust gains. The key to the difficulty is the traditional con- 
ception of the tyrant, or bad king: the stock character in later Greek: not 
invented by any single author, but derived from popular prejudice: the 
vague use of the word tvpavvos in tragedy: the bad king is simply a bad man 
who is rich and powerful. All men love gain: kings are proverbially rich: 
bad kings are proverbially greedy: Homer’s good and bad kings alike lend 
qualities to Oedipus: the greed of kings in Pindar: Solon’s refusal to be 
tyrant: Thucydides and economic motives: Thucydides on the Peisistratids 
and the Athenian hegemony : his artistic treatment of this theme: the same 
theme in Aeschylus: Agamemnon, Aegisthus and Orestes. The three kinds 
of wrong: the tyrant robs the gods, violates the chastity of his subjects, and 
grasps at wealth and power: the application to Oedipus. The relation of 
this theme to Sophrosyne: the Creon scene and the ‘gains that are really 
gains.’ 

CHAPTERIV. SOPHROSYNE . ‘ ° 1 lix 


The last scene sometimes called harsh: the need for hae in aidan 
the last words of Oedipus to his children generally misinterpreted. The 
prayer for the Modest Measure: its modern form: the maxim of Solon 
teaches the same lesson: it is the lesson taught by Apollo at Delphi: Solon 
and Croesus in Herodotus: Solon and Croesus analogous to Creon: the 
antiquity of the doctrine: the reference in Aeschylus, Agamemnon and 
Supplices: in Alcman: the proverbial and familiar nature of the material of 
lyric: the art of Pindar and Bacchylides: Croesus and Hiero in Bacchylides 

- and Pindar: the many applications of the doctrine. After the prayer for the 
measure, the appeal for restraint in grief: the modest measure in relation to 
the wisdom of men and gods: the due measure in speech: in the exercise of 
power. The importance of this doctrine for the structure of the whole play. 
The last word of Sophrosyne. The tragic confidence of the lucky man: the 
‘thoughts above mortality’: Oedipus at the crisis of the play was hailed as 
son of a god. 


A frail thing is this Intelligence, spread through our bodies, 
andmanyarethe shocks calamitous that dim our thoughts. A little 
span of life that is not life men look upon, and then, so swift are 
they to perish, like a smoke they are carried off, and lo! they have 
flown away: and nothing have they learnt to know save that 
which each has happened on, as all are driven all ways. Yet 
every man makes his vain boast that he has discovered the All 
—though that cannot be seen of men nor heard nor compre- 
hended. 

You, then, since you also have travelled hither, shall learn 
no more than mortal wits can see. 

EMPEDOCLES. 





Wise was the Lacedaemonian Cheilon who wrote these 
words:—In nothing seek excess: only to the Just Measure 
belongeth every good. 


AUCTOR INCERTUS. 





Quietness is a charming lady. And she dwells near Modesty 
of Mind. 


EPICHARMUS. 


PREFACE 


OME years ago, in writing a short introduction to Greek 

tragedy, I ventured to say that ‘the Oedipus Tyrannus de- 
pends for its effect upon qualities which are apparent, even in 
translation, to all readers who care for poetry and drama.’ Soon 
after I had written thus boldly, I was fortunate enough to see 
Professor Murray’s translation produced by Reinhardt. That 
performance taught me that the strength of the plot makes the 
play great and exciting even in the worst conditions that a bad 
producer can invent. But it also showed how little the real great- 
ness of the play is appreciated even by scholars and artists: for 
many of them praised that unhappy production. The Sophoclean 
Oedipus depends for its finest effects upon the restraint of the 
performance: Reinhardt’s production was lavish, barbaric, turbu- 
lent. The Greek actor was masked and stately: the words are so 
composed that their full effect can be appreciated only through 
the clear and rhythmical enunciation of an actor who relies mainly 
on his voice. Reinhardt’s actors, not altogether, I suspect, of 
their own free will, raged and fumed and ranted, rushing hither 
and thither with a violence of gesticulation which, in spite of all 
their effort, was eclipsed and rendered insignificant by the yet 
more violent rushes, screams, and contortions of a quite gratuitous 
crowd. The tragedy was intended to be enacted in broad day- 
light, and the background should have been a pleasant palace. 
Nature should be cheerful and splendid at the beginning and 
until the end, indifferent to the sufferings of mortals, even as the 
lord of light, Apollo, himself. Reinhardt gave us for a palace 
a black cavern of mystery, for the sunshine the great arc lamps 
which spluttered as they followed the actors in their mad career, 
and, to add to our discomfort, he posted his assistants behind, 
above, and around the stage and audience, to utter meaningless 
yells and to clash strange cymbals and other instruments of 
brazen music. The appeal was to our senses. Imagination and 
the tragic emotion were left,so far as the greatness of the drama 


x PREFACE 


allowed, unmoved. Finally, I am compelled to add, the dialogue 
of the Oedipus is clear-cut, unmetaphorical, and, though fraught 
with double meaning, never vague. The verse of Professor Murray, 
though beautiful and vigorous, is highly charged with metaphor, 
and very often vague. Sophocles had good reason for avoiding 
ornament. The mind of the speaker is always felt at work behind 
the words; and the words move us precisely because our imagina- 
tion is stirred to realise the accumulating emotion which lies 
behind the clear and logical simplicity. Then, in strong contrast 
with the dialogue, the chorus supervenes, full of metaphor, rich in 
the direct and musical expression of emotion. The chorus, in its 
place, and at the right time, fills the atmosphere with the 
mysterious voices of oracles and of vague foreboding. Try to 
make the dialogue romantic, and you miss the effect of the chorus 
as well as of the dialogue itself. 

So much I learnt from Reinhardt’s performance. I learnt 
more from a later performance, in Greek, at Cambridge. The 
rehearsals gave me the opportunity of hearing every verse intelli- 
gently recited many times. That taught me that there is no 
pointless phrase in the play. Often a sentence, to which at first 
the actor despaired of giving a dramatic meaning, proved, in the 
end, to be highly charged with emotion. The purpose of my 
translation is to give the reader a faithful version, which, at least, 
adds nothing, though, of course, at every moment I am aware 
that I omit half the effect. I shall be content if I can give, by my 
failure, the clue which may enable English readers to see by what 
sort of method Sophocles succeeded. Professor Murray’s trans- 
lation has qualities of poetry to which mine can make no 
pretension, but I hope that through my version, if it be read in 
the light of my commentary, the reader will be helped to see 
more clearly the qualities of Sophocles. 

Finally I witnessed the performance of M. Mounet-Sully? in 
Paris, the proof that the French nation possesses Sophocles, as 
at present the English nation, unfortunately, does not. The verse, 
the production, the acting, are beautiful: and it was the destruc- 
tion of formal beauty that made Reinhardt’s performance so 
lamentable. Because of its formal beauty the French production 
is an inspiration to all who care for drama, and a proof that Greek 


+ These sentences were written before the death of the great actor. 


PREFACE xi 


drama, not bolstered up by sensationalism, and not watered with 
sentimentality, has power to hold and to move a modern audience. 
If you doubt whether in these days Greek tragedy still matters, 
you may learn the answer in Paris. 

The accuracy of my interpretation depends, of course, upon 
many minute points of textual criticism and grammar. On these 
matters I have not, I hope, formed my opinion without due con- 
sideration of the available evidence. Where I accept Jebb’s text, 
I print it without critical comment. Where I disagree, my 
reasons are briefly stated in the notes. The questions with 
which I am mainly concerned cannot, indeed, be answered without 
a sound linguistic method, but are often ignored by scholars, and 
certainly cannot be answered by any critic who is content to 
say, with the famous schoolmaster: ‘ Boys, you are to have the 
privilege of reading the Oedipus Tyrannus, a storehouse of 
grammatical peculiarities.’ In my introduction and commentary 
I have tried to apply the results of the linguistic study to the 
dramatic interpretation of the play. My method is the study of 
the normal Greek ideas, and in this respect my debt to Walter 
Headlam’s work on Aeschylus will be apparent. I hope to prove 
that Sophocles, by playing on a set of simple and familiar 
notions, has created in the Oedifus a poem whose meaning is 
not disputable and a drama in which every part contributes to 
the tragic beauty of the whole. 

For, although scholars agree in praising the Oedipus, they 
differ strangely about its merits and its purpose. In every genera- 
tion there are found some champions of what I may call a ‘moral’ 
interpretation, who think that Sophocles composed his play, as 
Aeschylus certainly composed his trilogies, ‘to justify the ways 
of God to man.’ These critics imagine that our play presents 
an extreme example of ‘Tragic Justice.’ Oedipus sinned and was 
duly punished, and the audience are indirectly warned: ‘Sin not, 
since the sin of Oedipus was so terribly requited.’ With that 
school of criticism I have little sympathy, but I think the 
refutation offered by most scholars is inadequate. An appeal to 
plain good sense can always be eluded by the suggestion that, 
perhaps, after all, the moral point of view of Sophocles was 
different from ours: perhaps to him and to his audience, steeped 
in superstition, Oedipus seemed guilty and the play seemed a 


xii PREFACE 


triumphant vindication of the divine vengeance upon sin. We can 
only silence such absurdities by showing, in regard to each detail 
of the play, what effect it must have had on an Athenian 
audience, not merely what effect it has on a modern reader. 
This can only be accomplished if we consent to study the 
normal Greek ideas involved; and the study of these ideas has 
been neglected by the best of the linguistic scholars. 

The champions of common sense have also, for the most part, 
underestimated the importance of the chorus. In particular, they 
tend to treat as irrelevant the famous ode which describes the 
growth of a ‘tyrant’ (863 ff.), a poem which those who find ‘tragic 
justice’ in the play regard as the very centre of its teaching, and 
as the final proof that Sophocles looked at this question of moral 
responsibility from an ancient, and a barbaric, standpoint’. The 
more enlightened critics reply that the chorus is irrelevant to the 
drama. ‘No criticism in the world,’ they say, ‘can make line 889 
apply to Oedipus*.’ And so, they say, the ode ‘though impressive, 
and suited to the general atmosphere, is an irrelevant poem, ‘a 
beautiful embolimon®” Such an assertion plays into the enemy’s 
hands. Aristotle, who is constantly thinking of the Oedipus as he 
writes his Poetic, must have been strangely forgetful when he 
declared that the chorus ‘should take the part of an actor in the 
drama, in the manner of Sophocles, not in that of Euripides, and 
added that ‘ Agathon was the first to introduce irrelevant inter- 
ludes. Still, in spite of Aristotle, the critics make the poem 
irrelevant. It is ‘an indictment of contemporary Athenian ten- 
dencies.’ Indeed, some have sought, for the particular political 
events to which Sophocles is irrelevantly referring, an obscure 
scandal connected with the treasures of Delphi, the famous 
mutilation of the Hermae, and so forth‘! 

So long as critics do not expound the normal Greek ideas 
and so long as they treat the choral odes as irrelevant, they must 
not be surprised at the constant revival of the heresy which 
makes our play a drama of sin and punishment. The truth is 

? See (¢.g.) S. Sudhaus Konig Odipus’ Schuld, Kiel 1912. 


; a r Bruhn p. 36 of his Introduction to the 11th edition of Schneidewin-Nauck 
1910). 
’ This phrase is used by Dr H. F. Miiller in an excellent article (Berliner Phil. 


Wochenschrift 1913 Pp- 513 ff.)in which he conclusively disposes of the theory of Sudhaus. 
* See, for this kind of criticism, Bruhn’s Introduction Pp. 37- 


PREFACE xiii 


that the ode in question plays upon a perfectly familiar set of 
ancient ideas; so far is it from being irrelevant, that every word 
has reference to Oedipus. It expresses, not indeed the opinion 
of Sophocles, but the fear of the chorus, as felt at the precise 
moment which the drama has reached, that Oedipus may after 
all be a bad man, deserving evil. The chorus is mistaken. 
Oedipus is a good man, and here lies the greatness of his 
tragedy. He suffers as a bad man should suffer, and his quali- 
ties and defects are such as to suggest to some minds, at some 
moments—though not in the latter scenes of the play—that 
he may really be a villain. In fact he is noble, and suffers in spite 
of his nobility, partly as a result of it. Exactly how all that is 
plain to a Greek audience, exactly how the chorus is relevant and 
how the details of the drama lead up to the chorus and yet refute 
it, I shall try to show. 

Incidentally I hope to be able to show the dramatic value of 
those parts of the play for which most critics find it necessary 
to apologise. The Creon scene, ‘the only part of the play,’ as 
Professor Murray writes, ‘which could possibly be said to flag,’ 
even Creon’s frigid argument which has disappointed and puzzled 
most of us, is for a Greek a vital and essential part of the tragic 
development. The choral odes, as generally misinterpreted, 
‘move their wings less boldly’ than those of Euripides. I shall try 
to show their place in the economy of the drama. They are im- 
portant, though they do not, as in Aeschylus, contain the central 
thought of the play. We shall find, I hope, a satisfactory answer 
to the much debated question of the ‘sin’ of Oedipus. Finally, 
I hope that we shall be able to dispose of the common criticism 
of the end of the play, criticism which really implies that Sophocles 
has failed. Wilamowitz, for instance, finds the last scenes so 
painful as to be for a modern audience intolerable: he thinks that 
Sophocles regarded them with complacence because, unlike us, 
he was a pious pagan’. Professor Murray thinks that if the final 
scenes were acted ‘for all they are worth,’ they would send the 
audience away ‘cursing the author and producer, and wishing they 
had never come®.’ If we ask what were the preconceived notions 


1 Odipus pp. 12 ff. 
2 Inan interesting notice of the Cambridge performance published in the Caméridge 
Review, December 1912. 


xiv PREFACE 


with which a Greek audience listened to each sentence, we shall 
find a new relevance in the Creon scene, and in the choral odes; 
we shall better understand the noble but imperfect character of 
the hero; and we shall see a new, though tragic, beauty, trans- 
forming the very painfulness into an artistic satisfaction, in the 
conclusion, We shall find, also, and this is most important— 
because, were it otherwise, we should have proved that Greek 
tragedy was indeed of little importance to modern readers—that 
the notions with which Sophocles and his audience approach the. 
play are, in spite of some admixture of superstition, fundamentally 
true. 


EDITORIAL NOTE 


In publishing this book, which was begun before the war 
and finished in the early months of 1915, the author desires to 
acknowledge his indebtedness to Mr C. F. Taylor, who gene- 
rously undertook the task of verifying references and preparing 
the manuscript for the press, at a time when the author was 
unavoidably prevented from attending to such work. In general, 
to Mr Taylor’s encouragement and criticism he owes more than 
any phrase of acknowledgment can indicate. 

He desires also to thank Mr A. S. F. Gow for very kindly 
reading the whole book in proof and for suggesting many valuable 
criticisms and corrections, Mr Leonard Whibley, who has been 
good enough to criticise the Introduction, Miss W. M. L. Hutchin- 
son, who has made the Index, and the learned staff of the 
University Press, to whose accurate proof-reading the book is 
greatly indebted. 

The long delay in publication has been due to circumstances 
connected with the war. 


Ts 


KING’s COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE. 
February 1920. 


INTRODUCTION 


CHAPTER I 
THE PREPARATION OF THE AUDIENCE 


IT is a mistake to begin the study of a drama by piecing to- 
gether from the hints of the dialogue a laborious reconstruction of 
the incidents assumed by the author as antecedents of the action. 
Yet that is the usual introduction to editions of the Oedipus. We 
are expected by the critics to carry in our heads a very compli- 
cated story. The audience of Sophocles knew the main outlines 
of the hero’s tragedy, and some of them knew—and knew well— 
the details of earlier presentations, in narrative and in drama, of 
that tragedy: but none of them knew how Sophocles would 
develop and modify the familiar theme. Knowing that an Oedipus 
was to be produced, they knew, through epic, lyric, and drama, as 
well as through the tales of strange old days which they had 
learnt from parents and nurses in their childhood, a story something 
like this. In ancient times, Laius was king of Thebes. For some 
reason, he was destined to be slain by his own son. Apollo’s oracle 
of Delphi warned him, forbidding him, some say, to beget a son, 
merely revealing to him, say others, the fate which he could not 
escape. Anyhow, a child was born, and Laius, thinking to avoid 
the possibility of death at his hands, exposed the baby to die. 
Of course, the child was saved, grew to manhood without know- 
ledge of his parentage, and in due time, without knowledge, met 
his father and, in a quarrel, slew him. But worse than this, accord- 
ing to the poets, was reserved for Oedipus. He came, unknown 
and ignorant, to Thebes, the city of his birth, and rid his country- 
men of the ravages of a pestilent monster called the Sphinx. For 
this exploit he was rewarded with the hand of the king’s widow, 
and with the throne of Thebes. Sooner or later the truth came 
to light. He learnt that he had murdered his own father and 
married his own mother. 


xvi INTRODUCTION 


With this main outline of the story the whole audience, we 
must assume, is familiar. Many, perhaps most, of the spectators 
are familiar also with the details of different versions, which for 
us are in part made known by allusions in Homer, Pindar or later 
writers, in part irrevocably lost. We are reminded, for instance, 
by an allusion in the Odyssey? that the legend took its familiar 
shape before the deepening religious sense of Greece—connected 
partly with the development of the worship of Apollo at Delphi 
—had made it seem intolerable that Oedipus should continue, 
after such a tragedy, to reign at Thebes. When Odysseus visited 
the land of the dead, he saw, we are told, the mother of Oedipus, 
‘the beautiful Epicaste, who did a great wrong in the ignorance 
of her heart, for she married her own son: and he, when he 
married her, had slain his own father. Then suddenly? the gods 
brought these things to light among men. So Oedipus reigned 
on over the Kadmeians in lovely Thebes, suffering anguish because 
of the dreadful counsels of the gods. But she fastened on high 
a noose from the lofty roof-beam of the hall, and so passed to the 
house of Hades, that strong gaoler: thus did her agony prevail 
upon her: and for him she left behind sufferings full many, yea, 
all that a mother’s avenging Furies bring to pass.’ This ancient 
version has, in some respects, a remarkable likeness to the account 
of Sophocles. The epic poet has seized, like Sophocles, the tragic 
significance of the moment of discovery. In Sophocles, moreover, 
when Jocasta passes swiftly and silently into the palace where 
she is presently to be found hanging in her bridal-chamber, the 
emotion is made more poignant by a touch of reminiscence which 
is surely not accidental*. But in Sophocles, although the gods are 
felt in the background as mysteriously potent, the anguish comes, 
not simply ‘because of the dreadful counsels of the gods,’ but as 
the result of a perfectly normal human process of enquiry. The 
hero himself unravels his own tragic secret. And in Sophocles, 
though Jocasta leaves indeed much suffering behind, she calls 
upon no Furies to avenge her. The ban which is upon Oedipus 

1 Od. x1 271 ff. 

* It is uncertain, as Jebb remarks, whether dap means ‘ presently’ or ‘suddenly.’ 

* See line 1072 ri wore BéBnxev...in’ dyplas diaca NUwns 4 yw}. And then dédo.Ka 
h...dvapphte xaxd. The words in the Odyssey x1 277 ff. are these: # 3° €8n...6 axet 


oxXopevn 7H 8 Gyea Kéddm’ dricow....This reminiscence adds also to the effect of lines 
1280-1281. 


THE PREPARATION OF THE AUDIENCE xvii 


is the more terrible because in his ignorance he has invoked it on 
himself'. In the light of such reminiscences and such contrasts 
we are entitled to assert that for an audience of Athenians, familiar, 
as we cannot be familiar, with the epic tradition, there must have 
been an element of pleasure which for us is irrevocably lost. The 
bare fact that in the lost epic known to the ancients as the Cyprian 
Lays the story of Oedipus was related in a digression? does not 
help us to appreciate the art of Sophocles. Nor are we much the 
wiser for the statement that in the lost Oedipodeia the wife of 
Oedipus and the mother of his children was called Euryganeia*. It 
is more interesting to learn that our scanty evidence vouches, at 
any rate, for the importance in the Oedipodeza both of Creon, the 
queen’s brother, and of the devastating Sphinx. Whether the 
famous riddle which was triumphantly solved by Oedipus has 
actually reached us in the form in which it was asked in the 
epic‘, the evidence does not, I think, permit us to say. It was, at 
any rate, known in its present form long before Sophocles wrote 
his play®, and has, I think, a peculiar appropriateness which has 
not been fully appreciated. I will attempt a version: _ 

A thing there is whose voice is one ; 

Whose feet are two and four and three. 

So mutable a thing is none 

That moves in earth or sky or sea. 

When on most feet this thing doth go 

Its strength is weakest and its pace most slow! 

The creature, of course, is man. When we are strong we use 
our legs: when we are old, we add a stick to our natural supports: 
when we are infants, and at our weakest, we crawl on all fours. 
The riddle is a humorous modification of the Delphic yar. 
geavtov. By answering it, Oedipus showed that he recognised 
himself in the riddle. In our play he is to unravel a fresh secret, 
and again, but in tragic fashion, he will come to ‘know himself.’ 
Finally the lesson which, through his tragedy, we are to learn, is 

1 See lines 819 ff., 1381 ff. Cf. Robert Ozdipus p. 112. 2 See Jebb p. xiv. 

3 I agree with Robert Ozdigus pp. 108 ff. that the suggestion which makes 
Euryganeia a second wife, married by Oedipus after the death of the wife-mother, is 
due to a late and stupid misunderstanding. 

4 This is the conjecture of Robert Ozdipus p. 56f. 

5 The letters xac 7pt on a vase painting of the early fifth century (Hartwig 


Meisterschalen Taf. \xxvii, Robert p. 51, Miss Harrison Prolegomena p. 208) make 
this at least highly probable. 


s. b 


xviii INTRODUCTION 


this same lesson in its highest form: Learn that thou art but man, 
and, being man, be modest in thine own conceit and in desire, 

Of the Thebais, so far as concerns the subject of our drama, 
we know even less than of the Oedipodeia. Its influence upon 
Aeschylus is undoubted, and, if good fortune restored it to our 
hands, we should probably find that fresh light would be thrown 
on Sophocles. That Teiresias played an important part in the epic 
versions we may, on @ priori grounds, be allowed to assume. The 
modifications which were introduced into the story by the influence 
of Delphi we cannot trace, but Pindar’s reference to Oedipus as 
an illustration of his favourite doctrine of the mutability of human 
fortune serves to remind us that to some poets, at any rate, before 
Sophocles Oedipus was primarily not so much a sinner as a man 
uplifted to great happiness only to be plunged into yet greater 
calamity; and Pindar’s mention of the oracle delivered by the 
Pythian god reminds us that the importance of Apollo in the 
story was not due to the invention either of Aeschylus or of 
Sophocles. For the most part we are obliged to confess our 
ignorance. All we can do is to remember, and to regret, that we 
have lost the key to many pleasant allusions which were certainly 
meant to be felt’. 

Our most serious loss, however, is probably that of the trilogy 
in which Aeschylus, the great dramatist of the generation before 
Sophocles, had presented to an Athenian audience the tragic 
legend of Thebes. How serious is that loss we can guess when 
we have studied the Eéectra of Sophocles in the light of the 
Choephoroe of Aeschylus. In phrase after phrase of that play we 
recognise the motifs of the Oresteza, subtly modified and turned 
to new dramatic purpose with an effect which is doubly delightful 
to the hearer who knows the earlier play. How well the Athenian 
audience knew the dramatists, and how keenly they appreciated 
the subtlest reminiscences we can judge from the number and the 
delicacy of the allusions in Aristophanes, notably in the Frags. 
If we possessed the Oedipus of Aeschylus, we should find it very 
different in construction, style, and purpose, from the Oedipus of 


1 The origin and early history of the myth I do not discuss. Modern theories are © 
based on inadequate evidence and very bold hypotheses. Even if they could be proved, 
they would be irrelevant here unless it could be established that they were known to 
Athenians of the time of Sophocles. For this reason I have nothing to say about 
‘ medicine-kings,’ vegetation-spirits, marriage with the earth-mother. 


THE PREPARATION OF THE AUDIENCE xix 


Sophocles: but we should also find that the emotional value of 
many passages in our tragedy is heightened by the reminiscence 
of some Aeschylean motif or by an implied contrast with some 
Aeschylean suggestion. Of this we are made certain by the fact 
that in composing his Oedipus Sophocles has remembered, and 
has assumed that the audience will remember, motifs and sug- 
gestions from the Septem contra Thebas. From this, the third, and 
only surviving play of the Aeschylean trilogy, we must, in our 
turn, try to derive some help in our attempt to understand the 
method of Sophocles. 

Aeschylus treats the whole story as a tale of guilt and retribu- 
tion. Laius sinned against Apollo, who forbade him to beget a son. 
In Sophocles we notice that it is left doubtful whether even Laius 
sinned against the god. Nothing that Sophocles says makes it 
impossible that Apollo simply foretold the future destiny of a child 
already begotten. I agree with those critics who think that this 
vagueness is intentional, and that it ought to save us from a notion 
that somehow the fate of Oedipus is due to inherited guilt. In 
Aeschylus the child was born in sin, begotten in defiance of Apollo. 
The first play of the Aeschylean trilogy was concerned, then, with 
this sin of Laius, and with its punishment which was death. In 
the second play, Oedipus, the son who has killed his father— 
probably in a moment of sinful anger—and has married his mother 
‘in madness, at length discovers the truth. The second play, 
therefore, involves the sin and ruin of Oedipus and through him 
of Jocasta: but the catastrophe is to engulf the whole family, and 
Oedipus invokes a curse upon his sons. The third play, which 
alone we possess, is concerned with the fulfilment of this curse. 
At the third stage, the ancient sin involves not only the sons of 
Oedipus, doomed to ‘divide their inheritance with the sword, 
slaying each other in a contest for the throne, but also the whole 
city of Thebes, besieged by the Argives, and only saved from 
conquest and destruction by Apollo himself. Thus there is a 
progressive development. First Laius sins and is ruined. Then 
Oedipus ruins himself and his family. Finally the agony of the 
family of Oedipus imperils the whole city of Thebes. 


1 Robert’s theory (Oidipus Chapter VI a) that the dvayvwpiors was not dramatised, 
but took place after the end of the first and before the beginning of the second play, 


seems to me highly improbable. 
b2 


xx INTRODUCTION 


At the outset of the Seven against Thebes, Eteocles is pre- 
sented as the generous and pious prince, encouraging his citizens 
to resist the impious invaders brought against their country by 
his brother, the ambitious Polyneices. At first Eteocles is the 
good king, not without defects, but generally noble. After the 
quiet dignity of his opening address to the citizens, an irruption 
of panic-stricken women brings to our imagination all that the 
siege and danger of the city mean. This panic is also used by the 
poet as the first important test of the character of the young king. 
He begins by attempting to dismiss the women with tyrannical 
threats, treating their prayers to heaven with an impious contempt. 
Presently he recovers his balance, and for the moment seems 
again to be safe because he is pious. 

All this is not, indeed, consciously recalled by the spectator of 
the Oedipus. But there is a fundamental similarity of conception 
in the opening scenes, not altogether accidental’. Oedipus, like 
Eteocles, is presented to us as a king whose city is in peril—from 
plague, however, not from human enemies. Like Eteocles he 
appeals for courage, and, in his appeal, betrays his royal character. 
Here also we first receive our impression of the essential nobility 
of the hero and also of his danger—his unchecked power, his 
tendency to self-confidence. Then, and not till then, in the Oedzpus 
as in the Septem, our imagination is fired by the excitement of a 
choral ode*. This time the chorus represent the city of Thebes 
praying for deliverance from the plague. Reinhardt’s realistic 
method of presenting the first scene, the supplication to Oedipus 
and the king’s response, stirred us with sympathy for the suffering 
city. But it dwarfed the figure of Oedipus, and spoilt entirely the 
superb imaginative appeal of the second appearance of the king. 
After the first quiet movement, we ought to get a second and 

1 In the Antigone, also, this Aeschylean scene is recalled. Creon, installed in the 
same fatal seat of authority at Thebes, himself in his turn addresses to his people words 
which are superficially pious but fundamentally tyrannical and arrogant, revealing the 


character which is to lead him also to wickedness and ruin. The threat of death by 
stoning Ant. 36, which is quietly dropped in the course of the play, recalls the threat 
of Eteocles Sept. 199. 

* Later in the play, though I do not here suggest a deliberate reminiscence, the 
scene in which, after Creon’s oath of innocence, the queen and the chorus, in short 
bursts of lyric with iambic interludes, prevail upon Oedipus to let Creon go, is similar 


in effect to the scene in which the chorus of the Septem restore Eteocles to a pious and 
balanced frame of mind. 


THE PREPARATION OF THE AUDIENCE Xxi 


more intense impression of the greatness and the peril of the hero, 
when, upon the passionate dances and the lyrical prayers for 
deliverance of the city, Oedipus supervenes with his too confident 
appeal : 
You pray? Well...do as I bid you, and you may be saved. 
Elsewhere I have discussed the plot of the Septem contra 
Thebas', and have tried to show how important it is, from 
the dramatic point of view, to realise that the moderation of the 
king’s words is itself the pledge of the salvation of his city. It 
also heightens the tragedy for the audience, who know that, in 
spite of his effort to be sane and moderate, at the final test—the 
challenge of his brother—the passionate nature of Eteocles will 
break loose and ruin him. The notion that it is actually dangerous 
to speak other than ‘moderate and timely’ words is essential to the 
understanding of most Greek tragedy. ‘The helmsman of the 
state, the watcher who orders the act, must speak’—as well as do 
—‘things right and seasonable (ta xaipia).’ That theme governs 
the whole economy of the Septem. In the Oedipus the same 
principle is of vital importance. When Oedipus speaks, the 
audience listen with an instinctive readiness to appreciate the 
well-omened words and the ill-omened, the words of pride and 
self-confidence, the safe and pious words of cautious modesty. 
That fact adds for a Greek audience to the tremendous effect of 
the ‘tragic irony’ which even we appreciate, who have no such 
sense as had the Greeks of the mysterious connection of words 
and things. Remember how Teiresias insists op@ ydp ovdé col To 
cov dovnu tov mpos Karpov, and how Creon, at the solemn close 
recalls the theme:—@ py dpove yap od dire Every patnv. 
Finally, just before his catastrophe, Eteocles, casting all caution 
to the winds, becomes an impious fatalist, and rushes to his crime 
and death with a cry of self-abandonment which is surely re- 
membered in the Oedipus when the king insists on tearing the last 
veil from the truth*. Oedipus is right to insist. If he tried to avoid 
the truth Apollo would duly bring it to light®. But the spirit of 
confidence and rashness which has seized the king is evil. And 


1 In the Class. Quarterly vol. vil pp. 73 ff. Wilamowitz Znterpretationen p. 67 
says that the ov/y tragic scene of the play is that of the departure of Eteocles. 

2 See line 1076. 

3 See line 341. 


xxii INTRODUCTION 


the character of Oedipus in Sophocles recalls the character of 
Eteocles in Aeschylus. . 

I hope that this attempt to show how Sophocles has modified 
the Aeschylean themes will not be misunderstood. I do not 
suggest that for Sophocles the hero is ruined by his excessive 
confidence, punished for his boldness of speech. On the contrary, 
Sophocles has been at pains to make the hero innocent: and, 
since the tragic truth was true before the play began, had Oedipus 
been as reasonable as Creon and as modest as the chorus, the 
tragic result would, in Apollo’s own time, have come to light. My 
point is simply this: the familiarity of the audience with plays in 
which a sinner’s merited doom is foreshadowed or even produced 
by his wicked pride and confidence makes more poignant the 
tragedy of this innocent good man who behaves sometimes in the 
manner of the sinner who is justly ruined. The themes and motifs 
of Aeschylus are thus recalled with dramatic effect, but the moral 
inference is not drawn either by the poet or by the audience. It 
is for this reason that sometimes Sophocles has been hastily con- 
demned as ‘a great artist’ but ‘somewhat lacking in moral per- 
ception’! I hope to show the futility of such a criticism, but I 
have no wish to deny the contrast in moral tone upon which it is 
based. In spite of all reminiscences, the Oedipus of Sophocles 
differs from the Aeschylean trilogy as the E/ectra of Sophocles 
differs from the Ovesteta. In the Aeschylean Orves¢eza it is the 
moral problem that holds us—the righteousness, and yet the 
terrible unrighteousness, of the matricide. In the E/ectra we are 
very little concerned with the justification of Orestes. Does that 
mean that Sophocles is ‘morally obtuse’? I think not. In the 
Electra we are given something different, but not less tragic, the 
imaginative truth about Electra. It is tragic, terrible, that the 
heroine’s love for her father has killed in her all other love, so 
that to her the murder of her mother is only the first glorious step 
in vengeance upon her father’s enemies. The coldness of Electra 
to her sister, the bitterness of her hate for Clytaemnestra, and 
the vindictiveness of her triumph over the usurping adulterer, 
Aegisthus, are the tragic results of her love for Agamemnon. 
That love is revealed to us as the source, also, of a wonderful 
tenderness, when, in the happy moment of the return from death 
to life of Orestes, her father’s representative, Electra suddenly 


THE PREPARATION OF THE AUDIENCE Xxiil 


ceases to be cold and rational and cunning, and becomes an 
impulsive, reckless, almost hysterical girl. If, as I think, Sophocles 
has made us feel throughout the play this passionate love, with 
its results in beauty and in terrible ugliness, we have no right to 
criticise him for ignoring the moral problem which was the theme 
of Aeschylus’. 

Similarly in the matter of Oedipus, I hope that a recognition 
of the difference between the moralising of Aeschylus and the 
tragic irony of Sophocles will not be thought to justify a dis- 
paragement of the moral insight of the later poet. In the trilogy, 
of which the Septem formed a part, there can be little doubt that 
the sin of the heroes was the central fact. When Eteocles is 
ruined, the chorus sing: 


Of old it was engendered 
The Sin whose wage we see, 
The bloody ransom rendered 
By generations three! 
Laius, though thrice the god had spoken, 
Apollo, from the central shrine of earth: 
‘Wouldst keep thy city’s weal unbroken? 
See that no child from thee have birth!’ 
Fool, in the god’s despite, 
Fool, and slave of a fell delight, 
He got him a son—a son? It was Death that he got, 
Oedipus, parricide ! 
Oedipus, mated by madness to sow a forbidden plot— 
His mother his bride. 


Nothing of that kind will be found in the Oedipus of Sophocles. 
Here Oedipus does not suffer for his sin. He is innocent. Yet 
Sophocles has in view the character, the passion and the over- 
confidence, which in Aeschylus ruin Eteocles—and, we may con- 
jecture, Oedipus as well. These characteristics move us because 
they make the hero, who is nobler than we are, like us, also, 
in the frailty of his nature. As we are prone to pride and passion, 
so, and more than we, is Oedipus. That fact moves us, and for 
that reason Sophocles has given his hero the qualities which 
Aeschylus employed to show that ruin comes ‘not from wealth 
alone, nor from birth alone, but from sin. 


1 I have discussed this question in my essays on the Electras of Sophocles and 
Euripides in the Classical Quarterly 1918 and the Classical Review 1918. 


CHAPTER II 
THE INNOCENCE OF OEDIPUS 


My assertion that Oedipus is innocent demands, as lam aware, 
defence and explanation. It must be admitted that the hero, when 
he stands revealed as the murderer of his father and the husband 
of his mother, feels himself utterly vile, polluted, and the polluter 
of all who have dealings with him. He has done, however un- 
wittingly, things which have made him worse than the meanest 
of criminals. Are we not forced to admit that Sophocles here 
treats his Oedipus as a sinner duly punished? Has he not failed 
to realise that it is the motive and the knowledge of consequences 
that determine moral guilt? 

Without doubt, there was a time when a Greek audience would 
have been unable to distinguish between the guilt of the deliberate 
parricide and the misfortune of a man like Oedipus. Some vague 
minds even to-day find it impossible to realise that, for example, 
Tess of the D’Urbervilles was a chaste woman. And in the 
audience of Sophocles, though Greek literature and Greek law 
entitle us to claim that the work of enlightenment had gone far, 
there must have been many simple people who, if they had been 
examined by a lawyer, could not have made the distinction clear. 
Our question, however, concerns Sophocles, and an audience which 
is swayed by the emotions suggested by this play. How would 
ordinarily intelligent Athenians of the time of Sophocles feel, not 
simply think, about Oedipus? 

In the first place, very few of them—Euripides and some of 
his friends—would realise clearly that the supposed ‘pollution’ 
and the infectious nature of that pollution were the figments of 
old superstition. The Hercules Furens allows us to say so much. 
They would be able easily enough to imagine the state of mind 
of a person who believed in the definite, material, and infectious, 
pollution. But, for their own part, they would feel, as would an 
enlightened man of our own day, that the ignorance of Oedipus 


THE INNOCENCE OF OEDIPUS XXV 


absolves him from all blame. Anyone, however clear-headed, 
must, of course, feel that it is natural and right for Oedipus to 
experience a terrible emotion, with something of remorse and 
disgust, an instinctive sense of shame and intolerable pain. But 
we have no right to suppose that this is all. Most of the audience, 
perhaps Sophocles himself (though the Oedipus at Colonus makes 
this doubtful), felt and recognised as right the peculiar horror 
expressed by Creon when he bids the citizens put out of sight 
‘a thing polluted so that neither Earth nor Light nor Heaven’s 
Rain may welcome it.’ 

That difference between the ancient and the modern view 
must in fairness be admitted. To the average spectator of our 
play the man who had shed human blood was, until absolved by 
ritual purification and also, in some cases, by a judicial verdict of 
justification, physically unclean, infectious, and likely to be a cause 
of disaster to all with whom he came in contact. How strongly 
this superstition worked, even in the days of the ‘enlightenment,’ 
we may gather from the commonplaces which occur in a series 
of speeches composed by the orator and statesman Antiphon as 
a model for pleaders in Athenian courts. This is the kind of 
argument to which a jury will respond: 


It is against your own advantage that this person, so blood-stained and 
so foul, should have access to the sacred precincts of your gods and should 
pollute their purity ; should sit at the same table with yourselves, and should 
infect the guiltless by his presence. It is this that causes barrenness in the 
land. It is this that brings misfortune upon men’s undertakings. You must 
consider that it is for yourselves you are acting when you take vengeance for 
this murder.... 


The notion of the potent and disastrous blood-pollution is alive 
in Athenian society, no mere archaistic and imaginative revival 
of the poet. Though the clear vision of human love enables the 
Theseus of Euripides? to see the essential innocence and harmless- 
ness of his friend, even he does not deny the need for purification. 
His contempt for the danger of infection is for the audience a 


1 Tetral. 1 2. 

* Euripides H.7. 1215 ff. The whole scene is significant. Line 1230 may help us 
to realise that in the Oedifus at lines 1424 ff. Creon behaves, not brutally, but as 
a normal and pious Athenian would behave: but at lines 1466 ff. and 1510 with him 
also human kindness prevails over superstitious fear. Less directly than Euripides, 
without the denial of the popular belief, Sophocles also points the way to the truth. 


Xxvi INTRODUCTION 


revelation of generosity, a triumph of reason and of friendship 
over the current superstition. 

But we must make yet another admission. Though there are 
few traces here of the crude old superstition whose vitality is 
attested, for example, by the words of Plato’s Laws’: ‘He that 
has been slain by violence is angry against the doer, and pursues 
his murderer with shocks and terrors,’ there is certainly an appeal 
to the tragic notion that the dead man cries for vengeance. 
Though Sophocles has deliberately suppressed the Aeschylean 
and pre-Aeschylean notion of the ancestral curse and the inherited 
taint, we must not forget, in estimating the probable effect of his 
work, the ancient feeling, to which sanction was still given even 
by the enlightened practice of Athenian justice, that a killing was 
a wrong inflicted primarily on the family, and that it imposed, 
upon the kinsman, in the first place, the duty of requital. It is the 
family of a murdered man that demands the trial of his murderer. 
It is on a kinsman, who must claim first cousinship at least to the 
deceased, that the duty of prosecution falls. This fact, and the 
frame of mind which it induces, must be remembered when we 
try to realise the emotional effect of the parricide of Oedipus. It 
may help us if we recall another passage of the Laws, in which 
Plato, prescribing for the good government of a typical Greek 
city, will have the parricide slain and his body thrown out naked 
and unburied at a crossroad beyond the precincts of the city. All 
the officials shall bring stones and shall stone the corpse, thus 
throwing upon its head the pollution of the state. ‘The Justice 
that stands on watch, the avenger of kindred bloodshed, follows 
a law...ordaining that if any man hath done any such deed he 
suffer what he has inflicted. Hath a man slain his father? He 
must some day die at the hands of his children..,.When the 
common blood is polluted, there is no other purification. The 
polluted blood will not be washed out until the life that did the 
deed has paid a like death as penalty for the death, and so 
propitiated and laid to rest the wrath of the whole kinship®” In 
our play, I know, there is nothing quite so Savage as this. Yet 


1 1X 865 D. 


* If the slayer is unknown a proclamation (mpéspnots) must be made. The fact 
should be remembered when, in our play, Oedipus unconsciously proclaims himself an 
outlaw. 3 1x 873 E. 


THE INNOCENCE OF OEDIPUS XXVil 


the savage superstition is alive in Athens and we shall not 
appreciate the full tragedy of Oedipus unless we take that fact 
into account. 

Of the incest I need say little. But here also we must re- 
member that for a Greek audience there comes into play, not 
merely the natural feeling which we share, but also the super- 
stitious sense of a taboo, which makes the tie of family not less 
but more binding, the pollution not less but more horrible, than 
it is for us'. I will mention only the fact that an Athenian was 
held justified in killing an adulterer at sight if he were caught 
with the slayer’s wife or mother or sister or daughter, or even with 
his concubine, if she were the mother of children whom he had 
acknowledged as his own. So much depended on the purity of 
citizen blood that a man was forbidden to take back an unfaithful 
wife under penalty of the loss of citizen rights*. 

These differences between the normal ancient view and the 
modern view must, in frankness, be admitted. But do they really 
imply the sweeping corollary, for example, of Professor Murray? 
Is it true, that Sophocles expects and allows his audience to adopt 
that further superstition of ‘the terrible and romantic past’ which 
makes incest and parricide ‘not moral offences capable of being 
rationally judged or even excused as unintentional’? Is it true 
that he has allowed ‘no breath of later enlightenment to disturb 
the primaeval gloom of his atmosphere’? That is the question we 
have to face. 

For some of my readers, I hope, to put the question thus 
plainly is to answer it. Sophocles has, indeed, used all his con- 
structive art in the invention of a plot whose minor incidents as 
well as its broad effects reveal the hero’s piety, his respect for the 
natural bond of the family, and his instinctive detestation of 
impurity. But there are some critics who are somehow able to 
ignore the general impression, or to attribute it to a modern 
enlightenment which, they think, Sophocles did not share. Because 
Aristotle has remarked that the hero of a drama, if it is to produce 
in us the emotion proper to tragedy, must not be perfect, must 
have faults and make mistakes, such critics refuse to accept the 
broad presentation of the tragic figure of Oedipus, a hero not 


1 See e.g. Plato Zaws vill 838 A. 
2 Demosthenes Aristocrates 637 § 53, 1374 § 115. 


XXViii INTRODUCTION 


without faults, yet noble, involved, not because of his faults, but 
in spite of his virtue, in pollution. They must needs find some 
‘Guaptia, besides the tragic mistake, to justify the hero’s fall. 
For such critics it is necessary to dwell for a moment on the detail 
which was devised by Sophocles, not to justify the catastrophe, 
but to make us admire the hero and realise his essential nobility. 

In Aeschylus, as we have remarked, a sufferer is generally 
himself responsible for his calamity. The tragedy comes from the 
fact that a tendency to evil is too strong for the sinner to resist. 
It is true, therefore, that the story of Oedipus might have been 
so presented as to suggest the guilt of the sufferer or some 
mysteriously inherited tendency to evil. Of that fact the Athenian 
audience was aware. But the Athenian spectators would not there- 
fore, like some modern critics, weigh and ponder every little 
incident of his story as it unfolded itself to see whether, in fact, 
Sophocles had made his hero guilty. Happily we can be certain 
that even had they applied that method the result would have 
been an acquittal. An Athenian jury would have been amused 
by the plea of a prosecuting critic who argued, like some modern 
scholars, that the hero is revealed at lines 779 ff. as a person prone 
to criminality because he had been brought up as a spoilt young 
prince; that he must have been provocative in his behaviour since 
one of his companions was driven to insult him by the taunt of 
bastardy; that he was hasty and over-inquisitive in his appeal to 
Apollo, and was ungrateful in his neglect to inform his supposed 
parents of his departure; or finally—for this plea has been urged 
by a critic who saw the futility of all the rest\—that his dapria 
consisted in the criminal negligence with which, in spite of the 
oracle’s evasive answer, he killed an old man and married a com- 
paratively elderly woman. He ought, we are solemnly told, to 
have been put upon his guard. No jury, I venture to assert, and 
a fortiori no intelligent audience, would find him guilty on such 
grounds and assess such punishment for such offences. 

And however well the prosecuting counsel argued, the ad- 
vocate for the defence would have an easy task. As Wilamowitz 
showed’, the poet has been careful to leave no loophole for mis- 
understanding. It would have been so easy to make Oedipus the 
aggressor, as does Euripides, for instance, in the Phoenissae. In 


' Klein die Mythopoie des Sophokles etc. (Eberswalde, 1890). 2 Hermes vol. 34- 


THE INNOCENCE OF OEDIPUS Xxix 


Sophocles he is attacked in a lonely mountain pass and defends 
himself against an unprovoked assault. Forkilling thus committed 
as an act of self-defence Athenian justice! would have pronounced 
him innocent. After a ceremonial purification he would have 
been no further troubled by the affair. Unfortunately, ‘against 
his will’—for the whole tragedy assumes that he could not 
naturally have suspected the truth—the man whom he so justly 
slew was his own father, the woman whom he quite properly 
married was his mother. Thus, as an ‘involuntary sinner,’ he was 
plunged into calamities most terrible. 

But indeed an Athenian of the time of Sophocles would hardly 
have considered the detail with such care. To him the name of 
Oedipus suggests, not guilt, but chiefly misfortune. The moral 
fervour of Aeschylus had given a new interpretation to old stories. 
But for most Athenians the stories must have continued to 
illustrate, not the profound reflections of Aeschylus, but the 
perfectly reasonable, though unreflective, view which most people 
normally do take of stories. ‘Oedipus was at first a happy man, 
the king of Thebes, the saviour of the state, blest with children, 
loved by his subjects...but afterwards he became, when he made 
the great discovery, of all men the most wretched”’ 

As for those critics who look for the duapria in the course of 
the drama, not in its antecedents, it should be sufficient to answer 
that the plague which sets in motion the tragic events is itself the 
result of the pollution already incurred, and that at the outset, 
before ever he has insulted Teiresias or suspected Creon of dis- 
loyalty, the hero is already an incestuous parricide. But I am 
aware that this answer will not satisfy the critics, and I shall have 
more to say on this part of the subject in my next chapter. Here 
I must insist on the clearness of the distinction made at the crisis 
of the tragedy between the ‘involuntary’ acts which have brought 


1 He killed an adversary xetpGv &ptavra ddixwy (see Roberts and Gardner /ntro- 
duction to Greek Epigraphy vol. 11 p. 66 and Hicks Manual of Greek Historical 
Inscriptions p. 157) and also év 63¢ xadedkdv (Demosthenes Aristocrates p. 637). 

2 See Euripides ap. Aristoph. Frogs 1182. The contempt of Wilamowitz for those 
who read evdaiuwv is not, I think, deserved. In view of 0.7. 1197 it is rash to assume 
that Euripides could not have applied the word to Oedipus: and the jest is improved 
if Aristophanes has really succeeded in making a valid, though pedantic, point against 
the accuracy of the Rationalist. Oedipus was edrux7js, and most people would have 
called him, inaccurately, evdatuwv. 


XXX INTRODUCTION 


on the catastrophe, and the ‘voluntary evils’ of excessive agony 
and self-mutilation which are its result. The messenger who 
brings from the palace the news of Jocasta’s death insists upon 
the involuntary nature of the ‘sin.’ He sharply distinguishes ‘those 
many secret evils that lurk hidden in the house—so foul, not all 
the waters of Phasis and of Ister could wash it clean’—from those 
‘other evils’ which in a moment shall be displayed to the light, 
‘ills voluntary, not unpurposed, éxovta KovK akovTa. 

The laws of nature have been violated, and the violator has 
incurred pollution. Yes, but the pollution was incurred without 
the willing consent of the sinner, in spite of a life whose governing 
purpose had been to avoid the sin (793 ff, 997 ff). Oedipus him- 
self makes a like distinction: it was Apollo who brought these 
things to pass (1329 ff.), the ills which are the worst: but the 
blinding stroke upon the eyes was inflicted, not only by the hand, 
but with the full will and intent, of Oedipus. 

This distinction between the voluntary and the involuntary is, 
of course,a commonplace of Greek tragedy. Its recognition marks 
an important stage in the history, not only of criminal law, but 
also of morality and religion. For this drama it has an importance 
which seems to have escaped the notice of many learned interpre- 
ters. To its significance for an Athenian audience the earlier 
literature will perhaps provide a key. Poets who died before the 
great ‘enlightenment, whose morality was the model for old- 
fashioned propriety, and who would certainly have felt that 
Oedipus was physically polluted and infectious, had yet a perfectly 
good conception of the difference between the intentional criminal 
and the unfortunate who had committed an unintentional crime. 
It was quite possible for a Greek to believe that certain conduct 
had made a man physically unfit for human society, and yet to 
acquit him of all blame. The thought is expressed in different 
language from our own. But essentially, we shall find, the normal 
Greek view of such a case was likely to be no less sympathetic 
and intelligent than our own. 

For a statement of the fundamental notions we may go to 
Simonides, whose spirit, though he was a poet of Ceos, has 
been recognised as Attic. He was a favourite at Athens, and 
an acknowledged exponent of the higher elements of popular 
morality. 


THE INNOCENCE OF OEDIPUS XXXi 


Scopas, a prince of Thessaly, asking, doubtless, for flattery, 
had suggested to Simonides as a theme for song the famous saying 
of a great statesman, Pittacus of Mytilene. Pittacus became sole 
ruler of his city at a time of civil discord, but laid down his office, 
not attempting to make himself a despot, because, as he said, ‘It 
is difficult to be a man of virtue.’ When Scopas, prince of Thessaly, 
asks his courtier poet for an opinion on that dzctwm, we have the 
right to think, in words like those of Herodotus concerning 
Croesus: ‘This he asked, expecting to be told that it was indeed 
difficult, but that Scopas by peculiar excellence had conquered 
the difficulties. Had Pittacus been Scopas, he had not needed to 
lay aside his power.’ But the poet took his harp and answered in 
far different fashion, courtly yet wise: 

Difficult, say you? Difficult to be a man of virtue, truly good, shaped and 
fashioned without flaw in the perfect figure of four-squared excellence, in body 
and mind, in act and thought? 

That is the text. There is a gap in our tradition. Later comes 
this answer: 

Nor to my ears does the current phrase of Pittacus ring true—though 
wise was he who uttered it. He said ’twas difficult to be a man of virtue. I 
answer, only a god can have that boon. For a man—if he be overtaken by a 
calamity against which no device availeth, needs must he be evil ; there is no 
escape. As any man is good if fortune grant it, so if his fortune bring him 
evil, evil is the man: and those of us are best whom the gods love. Therefore 
will I not waste the lot and portion of life that is granted me in an empty 
aspiration, a bootless quest, the search for a perfect man among all of us that 
reap the harvest of the earth’s wide fields in Hellas—though, if I find one, I 
will bring you news. No! I have praise and love for every man who does no 
deed of shame of his own will. Necessity not even the gods resist....Enough 
for me a man who gives not way to utter evil, utter lawlessness, a man who 
hath in him the sense of that fairness which profits his city, a man whose 
heart is sound. No reproach shall such a man have of me—because you can- 
not count the generation of the children of utter folly. All deeds are good if 
they be free from baseness. 

Thereis scope here for misunderstanding, and indeed Simonides 
has been accused of flattering the prince by extolling ‘the morality 
of the second-best.’ The truth is that he is warning his patron 
against self-righteousness. Pittacus was wise, for he realised the 
temptations and dangers of power. He is to be criticised only 
because his maxim did not sufficiently insist on the dangers that 
beset a man, as man, even if he is not a king. Let Scopas re- 


xxii INTRODUCTION 


member, however well he rules his people, that, even so, he is but 
a man, and therefore imperfect. The best of men can, it is true, 
obey their sense of right, refusing to violate Aidés; and, therefore, 
of the best it may be said that they are in a sense ‘good’ since 
there is nothing ‘shameful’ in their intentional and purposed deed 
and thought. But, even so, they are not secure. Perfection, if 
calamity comes, is not possible. In some circumstances the best 
that can be attained is the avoidance of the wilful violation of 
justice and moderation. If calamity ‘unmanageable,’ not to be 
put off by any wit of man, engulf us, we cannot be perfect men... 
yet we may, if we are as noble as Oedipus, be worthy of praise 
and love, even in our shame and actually in our moral catastrophe. 

Is that not true? The Stoics denied it. Virtue, and therefore 
happiness, they said, were possible for all men, however sick in 
mind and body and estate. But, in order to make good that claim, 
they had to narrow their definition of virtue. The good will is 
always possible—save in insanity. And the good will is always, 
in itself, virtuous. True, and no man is to be blamed if he has 
well striven, ‘doing of his own will nothing shameful.’ But is it 
possible for the best life to be attained without good fortune, or, 
as Simonides and Sophocles would say, without the gift of the 
gods? Simonides answers by a distinction important for the 
understanding of the Oedipus, as it is for much else in Greek 
literature and in our own experience. A man may be guilty through 
no fault of his own',and no man, however excellent in intention 
' and in act, no man, even, however blest by fortune or the gods, 
achieves and keeps perfection. 

1 That is one of the most important principles in Greek morality. An amusing 
application will be found in Herodotus 111 43, the story of a ruler who tried in vain 
to be the ‘most just of men.’ An application whose importance and truth we must all 
at this time recognise is made by Thucydides (111 82) when he says that ‘ War, because 
it puts men into a situation in which they are not free agents (dxovelouvs dvd-ykas), 
makes them like their circumstances ’"—worse than they are in time of peace. When 
Socrates enunciated his paradox that no one willingly does wrong, he was using 
old language for his new thought. The old proverbial moralities divided evils into 
‘voluntary and involuntary.’ ‘Ills sent by the gods, inevitable, destined, necessary,” 
must be borne without excessive grief and complaint. Such an evil was the pollution 
of Oedipus. But the self-blinding was an additional evil, self-imposed, voluntary, 
and therefore morally different. The comment of Socrates would have been that this 
act also was involuntary, since it was done with the intent of finding forgetfulness: 


had he known, as later he knows, that peace of mind comes only through Sophrosyne, 
Oedipus would not have mutilated himself. 


THE INNOCENCE OF OEDIPUS xxxiii 


That this idea, essentially true, is expressed in language which 
misleads many of us, and shocks some, is due to the inheritance 
of a tradition which used epithets, now exclusively moral, in a 
political sense. A ‘good’ man has sometimes meant a brave and 
cunning fighter, a wise counsellor, a just judge. Elsewhere and 
in a different society it means a successful, respectable, and 
therefore probably industrious labourer, or trader, or house- 
holder. Sometimes, again, it has meant a man born of ‘good 
family’ and maintaining the standards, whatever they happen to 
be, of his class. In all these cases the possibility of ‘goodness’ 
must obviously depend on good fortune—and it is true enough 
that there is something which deserves to be called ‘goodness’ in 
the happy warrior, the substantial householder, or the aristocratic 
‘noble.’ Simonides, though he admits the obvious, adds—he is 
probably not the first to add it—that there zs a sort of goodness, 
limited, yet valuable, which is not dependent on the turn of luck. 
Thus he gives us a new interpretation, entirely free from cynicism, 
of the Homeric observation that men’s minds are good or bad 
according to the kind of weather Zeus allows them’. The dis- 
tinction between the will to goodness and the possession of it is 
implied, though not quite clearly stated. There remains a danger 
of relapse into a vague theory of irresponsibility. But we, if we 
emphasize too much the Will, run another danger. We may be 
tempted to flatter ourselves and our prince by saying that there 
is no need to trouble about the poverty and misery of our people, 
because, forsooth, all men can have, without money and without 
price, the Will to Virtue which is independent of the gifts of the gods. 

It may help us to judge more fairly of Simonides—and also 
of Sophocles—if we notice other passages, not inconsistent with 
our text, but complementary to it. For example, see what the 
poetry of Simonides? has made of Hesiod’s practical advice to 
the farmer who would be prosperous and respectable: 

Tis said [that is, we know, by Hesiod and many others] that Virtue 
dwells upon the inaccessible hills, attended by the chaste dancing company 
of Nymphs divine, not visible to the eyes of all mankind, but only to him 
whose heart has felt the pang of struggle and the sweat...to him who has won 
his way by manhood to the height. 


1 Od. xviiI 136 
Totos yap véos éoriv émtxOoviwy avOpdrwv 
oloy ér’ juap dynot rarnp dvdpay Tre Gedy Te. 
2 Fr. 58 Bk. 
S. c 


xxxiv INTRODUCTION 


There is no ‘morality of the second-best’ in that! But it is 
true, unfortunately, that a farmer, however well he works, may be 
foiled by weather and by soil. So, in the moral sphere, there are 
real limitations to man’s freedom. Though he strive hard for 
excellence, a man needs the gift of the gods, success, if his virtue 
is to be the successful virtue, the perfect prize of excellence at 
which he aims. 


None winneth virtue without the gods, no city and no mortal man. Tis 
the god that deviseth all, and among men there is no life altogether free from 


calamity’. 
Moreover, it is from this very fact that a man, however good his 


intention, however brave his effort of thought and will, may 
always fail—falling, as the Greeks say, into involuntary evils, 
because the gods or his daimon or luck or circumstances will have 
it so—that a pious Greek refuses to call men happy till they are 
dead. This same Simonides may remind us: 

Since you are but a man, never presume to say what to-morrow brings— 
nor, when you see a man happy, how long a time he will be so*%. 
Perhaps the noblest expression of the frame of mind suggested 
to a Greek by such reflections is the Spartan prayer: 

King Zeus, grant us the good for which we pray—aye, and the good we 
pray not for : and, though we pray for it, avert from us the evil. 

Upon that lofty strain it would be pleasant to end my chapter. 
But I dare not stop here. Our attempt to prove the innocence of 
Oedipus has led us back to the problem which lies at the heart, 
not only of the tragedy of the Greek theatre, but also of the tragedy 

‘of human life. If the innocent suffer—and who, in these days, 
will deny it?—if the faults of men are visited upon their own heads 
and the heads of others in retribution more terrible than the faults 
deserve, what are we to think of the justice of the gods? That 
question, which remains with us, was faced and variously answered 
by the Greeks. The terms in which they answer it are not our 
own: but if we rightly understand their meaning, the answers 
are the answers with which the world must reckon to-day. 

In the house of Zeus, said Homer, stand two jars from which 
he dispenses to mortals good and evil alike. That simple doctrine 
is not compatible with the perfect goodness of the gods, Still 
more incompatible is another ancient doctrine that the gods are 


jealous of a man’s prosperity and deliberately tempt him to his 
1 Fr. 61 Bk. 2 Fr. 32 Bk. 


THE INNOCENCE OF OEDIPUS XXXV 


own destruction. We need new explanations when philosophy or 
religion insists upon the goodness of the gods. We shall certainly 
deny the doctrine of the divine jealousy and the divine temptation. 
We may deny that evil comes from the gods. But we cannot 
escape the fact that some of our evils, at any rate, are certainly 
not due to man. We may say that evil is the punishment of sin, 
that a man must pay for his faults or for the faults of his ancestors, 
or we may tell ourselves that suffering is the only road to wisdom. 
Even so, we have not solved the problem. If we are mystics and 
assert that apparent evil is, in the sight of the gods or of the 
Absolute, good, we abandon in logic, though not, of course, in 
practice, our right to judge of good and evil. 

Of the mystical confusion of good and evil we shall find no 
tracein our play. Of the truth that suffering is a school of wisdom 
greater use has been made, as we shall presently see, than is 
admitted by most interpreters. But there is no suggestion that 
the wisdom justifies the suffering. The theme of an inherited 
guilt is, as we have already remarked, ignored. That the omission 
is deliberate becomes obvious when we remember that Sophocles 
was familiar with the work of Aeschylus, and when we recall how 
this mozz/ is used in the Axtigone (584 ff.). The tragedy ensues by 
normal human processes from the act of Oedipus himself. Yet 
the character and the life of the hero are such as to exclude, for 
a Greek as for a modern audience, the notion that he has deserved 
his fate, though his tragedy is heightened by the fact that his 
defects are precisely those which for a Greek are normally 
associated with the righteously afflicted sinner. Finally, the 
plague, the oracles, the prophecies of Teiresias, and the sense, in 
the background, of the mysterious potency of Zeus and Apollo, 
imply that, in some sense, the evil comes from the gods. It comes, 
however, not by miraculous intervention, but through the normal 
processes of human will and human act, of human ignorance and 
human failure. Sophocles justifies nothing. He accepts, for his 
tragic purpose, the story and the gods, simply treating them as if 
they were true. Whether he thought that in ancient times a real 
king Oedipus had actually suffered this agony is of no importance. 
Whether he believed in prophecies or not really matters little. 
His Oedipus stands for human suffering, and he neither attempts, 
like Aeschylus, to justify the evil, nor presumes, like Euripides, to 

c2 


XXxvi INTRODUCTION 


deny its divine origin. That is because his gods—whether he 
believed in them, or exactly in what sense, does not matter—stand 
for the universe of circumstance as itis. Aeschylus and Euripides 
both demand for their worship a God who is good and just. Both 
therefore must attempt to solve the ‘problem of evil.’ The pagan 
gods of Homer and Sophocles require no such reconciliation. 
They are great and good, and great and bad—like things, and 
men, and nature. They square with the tragic facts of life, and 
therefore, we, who do not think that the lightning is the flash 
of the bolt of Zeus, who do not believe that Apollo was born 
of Leto in the island of Delos, can yet believe in the essential 
truth of the Sophoclean Apollo. There are in human life great 
tragedies, moving and wonderful because they flow from human 
action and are in some measure due to human blunders, yet 
tragedies for which in no full moral sense can responsibility be 
ascribed to man. Man is often the victim of circumstance—yes, 
often his own nobility demands that he shall sacrifice his own 
most noble qualities. Well, the ‘circumstance,’ which alone we 
can call responsible, is poetically represented by Apollo. And the 
tragedy, which admits this non-moral power, can appeal to all 
the listeners, whether like Aeschylus, they say at the end of the 
play: ‘Ah yes, it is terrible. Yet my religion tells me that at the 
heart of it there is the working of a righteous God,’ or whether, 
with the pessimist, we cry out in condemnation of such a universe, 
or whether we simply admit the tragic facts—and, as to their 
explanation, are fain to confess our ignorance. 

That the language, and sometimes the thought, has an ad- 
mixture of superstition I have no wish to deny. We recognise a 
belief which probably none of us shares, when, for example, after 
Oedipus has told Jocasta of the terrible pronouncement of Apollo, 
he cries : 

If any judge my life and find therein 
A savage Daimon’s work, he hath the truth}. 


In my version I have ventured to translatethe words @0d Satpovos 
by ‘malignant stars, a phrase which recalls to us a kindred, 
but more familiar, notion. We hear again, from the chorus, of 
the Daimon of Oedipus, immediately after the revelation of the 


1 Line 828 f. 


THE INNOCENCE OF OEDIPUS XXXVil 


truth’, Finally, at the sight of the blinded and humiliated king, 
the chorus cry: 
What Fury (daizer) came on thee? 
What evil spirit from afar 
Leapt on thee to destroy? 


And Oedipus himself asserts that his calamity is the work of an 
evil Saivov: 
Alas! Curse of my life (8atzor), how far 
Thy leap hath carried thee !? 


Of the various meanings and applications of the word Aaipov 
we need not speak, but something must be said of the popular 
sense of which Sophocles has here made so tragic a use. Probably 
none of us believes that with every man there is born and lives 
and dies a supernatural being, ‘an individualised Fortune, a being 
upon whom his prosperity and his misfortune somehow depend, 
his ‘guardian angel’ if his character and luck be good,a veritable 
‘demon’ if he be born to wickedness or calamity. How far 
Sophocles himself believed in such a supernatural Dazmon we do 
not know. He may, for all we know, have travelled far upon the 
road towards that ‘rationalistic’ interpretation of life which issued 
in the doctrine that a man’s character is his fate (700s avOpom@ 
daineov). The important point for us is this: although the memory 
of the old superstition, and the fact that some of the audience are 
probably themselves superstitious, add emotional value to these 
allusions, yet, so far as the moral inference is concerned, no harm 
is done. The poet’s presentation of the character of the hero, and 
the judgments which are implied both as to his moral responsi- 
bility and as to his innocence, are as clear and as just as if the 
poet had been a modern rationalist and had substituted for the 
vivid Daimon the vagueness of ‘disastrous accident’ or ‘circum- 
stances unforeseen and beyond control.’ For moral judgment, 
though not for the dramatic value of the poem, it makes little 
difference whether you attribute the ‘involuntary evils’ to the 
gods or to the Dazmon or to complications of circumstance. 
I do not, of course, deny that there is a danger in these, as in 
all superstitions. My purpose is simply to suggest that the attri- 
bution of that part of human misfortune which is not due to man 


1 Line 1195. ? Lines 1301 ff., and 1311 ff. 


XXXViii INTRODUCTION 


either to fate (Herodotus 1 19, Soph. PAz/. 1466), or to Zeus (6 
advt’ Gvdoowv O. T. 894, ov8év Todor Srey) Levs Soph. Trach. 
1278), or to a man’s Dazmon, does not necessarily and always 
imply a false estimate of human moral responsibility. For 
morality, all depends on the particular application which is made. 
Some men, for example, profess to believe that war is due to the 
anger of God, some that it is due to the malignant activity of the 
devil. The result may be, and sometimes is, a criminal negligence 
or a fanatical barbarity. But what matters for morality is simply 
that such persons, whether or not they are superstitious, should 
be sufficiently clear-sighted to help one another in the task of 
abolishing all natural, human, and avoidable causes of such 
crime. No Athenian could possibly have inferred from the fact 
that the calamity of Oedipus is ascribed to his Damon or to 
Apollo the notion that it is useless for a man to attempt to live 
decently and to honour his parents. Most doctrines are capable 
both of a higher and of a lower moral application. There were 
many in the audience who would have accepted without question 
the immoral theory, had it been suggested by the poet’s treatment, 
that the gods tempt men to their ruin. They would have felt, like 
the grumbling old moralist of Megara’: 


In nothing be over-zealous! The due measure in all the works of man is 
best. Often a man who zealously pushes towards some excellence, though he 
be pursuing a gain, is really being led astray by the will of some divine power 
which makes those things that are evil lightly seem to him good, and makes 
those things seem to him evil which are for his advantage. 


Sophocles, as we shall see, has made his story a reminder of the 
fallibility of human endeavour and of the importance of modera- 
tion. But he has not treated Apollo or the Daimon of the hero 
as a devilish tempter luring him into sin. His moral is more 


nearly, though not quite exactly, expressed in another pronounce- 
ment of Theognis?: 


No man, O Kyrnus, is the cause of his own ruin or his own advantage. 
The gods are the givers of both: nor hath any man, as he works, the know- 
ledge in his heart whether the end of his labour be good or evil. Often he 
thinks to make the issue evil, and lo! he hath made it good, or thinking to 
make it good, he hath made it evil. To no man also cometh all that he 
desires. The limits of a cruel helplessness restrict us. We are but men, and 


1 Theognis 4o1 ff. 2 Lines 133 ff. 


THE INNOCENCE OF OEDIPUS XXxix 


so our thoughts are vain ; no certain knowledge have we; and it is the gods 
that bring all ends to pass according to their mind. 


No one, I suppose, has insisted more strongly than the poet 
Pindar on the need for personal effort if success or virtue is to 
be won: but no one, also, has insisted more strongly on the doc- 
trine that both good and evil come from ‘the gods’ or from 
a man’s Daimon. Pindar’s athletes and princes stand at the 
height of human fortune. They need to be reminded, first, that 
success has come, not only by their own effort, but also as the 
gift of the gods, and, secondly, that no mortal is exempt from 
those reverses of fortune which come also from the gods. Just as 
a man must strive if he is to succeed, yet may fail in spite of 
noblest endeavour, so, if he fail, he may or may not be guiltless, 
yet his failure will be due to causes greater than himself. ‘It is 
according to the Daimon of their lives that men are born wise 
and good’ (OZ IX 29), and ‘the flower of wisdom grows in a man 
as the gift of a god’ (OZ. xI 10): ‘it is the fate which is born with 
a man that decides the issue of all his doing’ (Vem. Vv 40), and 
‘we are not all born for a like fortune, but are set on different 
roads by the different apportionment of fate which is given to 
each’ (Nem. Vil 5). ‘It is the goddess Theia who gives the 
athlete his glory’, though ‘men’s valour differs according to their 
Daimones...and Zeus himself, who is master of all things, gives 
us our good and our evil’ (/st#. V 7, 11, 52). Pindar, it is true, 
lays more stress on the aristocrat’s inheritance of virtue and good 
fortune than would a democratic Athenian. But the essential 
notions persist. On the one hand, no virtue comes without the 
virtuous endeavour. On the other hand, in spite of all endeavour, 
‘in a little while the pleasantness of the life of mortals grows, 
and in a little while it falls to earth, shaken down by the turn of 
the purpose of the gods. Creatures of a day, what is it to be? 
What is it to be nothing? A man is a dream of a shadow. Yet 
when there comes to a man the gleam of happiness that is given 
by Zeus, bright is the light that is upon him, though it be but 
the light of mortality, and all his life is blest’ (Pyth. VIII 92 ff.). 

Such is the spirit which the tragedy of Oedipus is intended 
to inspire. The name of the spirit is Sopkrosyne. The motifs 


1 Editors have not observed that the goddess rules the whole construction from 
line 1 to line 10. The point of the whole paragraph is contained in the last clause. 


xl INTRODUCTION 


which the poet has used might have been so treated as to pro- 
duce a very different impression. Had Sophocles chosen he might 
have treated Oedipus as a willing sinner justly punished. But 
that method would have made the tragedy less tragic. The poet 
and his audience would not have faced the deepest and the 
greatest tragedy of human life. Or, had he chosen, he could have 
used the theme of Apollo’s oracular guidance in a spirit which 
insisted on the devilish relentlessness of the god. The audience 
would have responded, though the more enlightened of them 
would have been shocked. The mind of the spectators is attuned 
to the influences both of a higher and of a lower appeal. The 
reader will judge whether I am justified in suggesting that it is 
to the higher morality that the poet has addressed himself. He 
neither justifies the gods by making Oedipus a criminal nor con- 
demns the gods because the agony of Oedipus is undeserved. 
He bids his audience face the facts. 

To the question whether beyond the grave there is re- 
conciliation and peace, poets, philosophers, and divines, have 
their various answers. Tragedy, which concerns this life and the 
undoubted sufferings of this life, is noble still, even if the poets, 
philosophers, and divines can find a happy answer. Sometimes 
Sophocles writes as if he has the intuition of a happy solution. 
But his work as a tragedian is to face the facts of life. Whatever 
be our own interpretation of those facts, we shall be moved by 
their presentment in his drama. 


CHAPTER III 
THE TYRANT 


WE have still to consider the chorus which is the main anchor 
of those critics who suppose that Sophocles, being a pagan and 
extraordinarily liable to moral obtuseness, really meant us to 
condemn Oedipus in a way which as rational moral beings we 
cannot approve. These critics find in lines 863 ff. the central 
doctrine of the poet'. Critics who take the more reasonable view 
of the character and fate of Oedipus have unfortunately never 
dealt with this suggestion as it deserves. They are generally 
content to treat the ode as irrelevant. In this chapter my attempt 
will be to show, first that the ode is relevant, secondly that it 
expresses not the judgment of Sophocles, but the fears of the 
chorus, distressed and agitated by the scenes with Teiresias, Creon 
and Jocasta. The chorus say in effect: ‘We hope that Oedipus 
is not really, as some of his words and actions suggest, a bad man! 
Of course, if he is, he will suffer. But we hope he is not. On the 
other hand, it is a serious matter for religion if the oracles are 
false.’ They assume, as many Greek and other moralists assume, 
that only the guilty are ruined. The spectator already knows 
better. He knows that the king is indeed to suffer all the cala- 
mities which the chorus associate with wickedness. He also 
knows that, although Oedipus is imperfect, and imperfect in just 
those ways which naturally occasion the suspicion that he is a 
‘wicked tyrant,’ he is essentially good, and is to suffer not because 
of his guilt, but in spite of his goodness. 

That is the thesis which I have to prove. I must ask your 
patience if I begin with a literal prose version of the poem. You 
will remember that Teiresias has denounced Oedipus and that 
Oedipus has thrown out his accusations against the honour of the 


1 J. Oeri in his article die Mépyn ris Tpaywdlas (in Festschrift sur 49 Versamml. 
Deutschs. Philol. Basel, 1907) says ‘the soul of the piece lives’ in lines 863 ff. That is 
the view recently taken by Sudhaus. 


xlii INTRODUCTION 


prophet and of Creon. The chorus have asserted that until clear 
proof is given they will continue to believe the hero innocent, the 
prophet, though generally wise, mistaken. Creon and Oedipus 
have violently quarrelled, and Jocasta, in order to comfort her 
husband, has told a story of her past, which has only led to worse 
revelations from Oedipus. We have heard the doubts that she has 
thrown on oracles. We have heard the talk of terrible pollutions. 


Then the chorus sing: 

As I go through life be this the destiny that walks with me: ever may I 
win the prize of reverent purity in word and deed—whereof? there are Laws 
set forth, Laws that walk on high, that were brought to birth in the region of 
Heaven’s pure aether. Their Father is Olympus, none other. The race of 
mortals engendered them not, nor shall forgetfulgess ever put them to sleep. 
In them is a god, and he is great and grows not old. 


So far, no one doubts the application. Distressed by the talk 
of pollution and of oracles that are false, the chorus pray that they 
may always be pure and reverent. Now comes the disputed 


passage: 

It is Insolence that breeds a Tyrant, Insolence surfeited to no good pur- 
pose with wealth, surpassing the due measure, and not profitable. Then the 
sinner climbs the highest pinnacle, and leaps into a helpless doom, most 
fatal, where he can move no foot to aid himself. But to that wrestling which 
is good, and for the city’s good, I pray the god never to put an end! To the 
god will I still cling as my defence! 

Still, if a man walk proudly in word or deed, fearing not Justice, nor 
reverencing the gods enshrined, then may an evil destiny seize him for his 
ill-fated wantonness, if he refuse to gain his gains by justice and to keep 
himself from all irreverence, or if to evil purpose he touch things that are un- 
touchable. Where such things are done, what mortal man shall boast that he 
can save his life from the arrows of the gods? If such doings are held in 
honour, why should I worship the gods in dance and hymn? 

I will no longer go in reverence to the inviolate centre-stone of earth—the 
omphalos of Delphi—nor to the shrine at Abae, nor to Olympia, if these 
oracles fit not the event, so that men may point and say they fit! O Master, 
if thou art rightly named the Master, Zeus, King of All, I pray that these 
things escape not Thee and thy everlasting governance. Lo! Already they 
are setting at nought the oracles that were spoken of old concerning Laius, 
and they fade. Nowhere is Apollo manifest in worship and in power. Reli- 


gion dies! 
If you examine carefully the description of the sinner, you 
must admit that it would be strange indeed if Sophocles really 


1 The relative is vague: the effect is almost equivalent to ‘reverence and purity 
whereof,’ though there is also felt ‘words and deeds whereof...’ 


THE TYRANT xliii 


meant it as a true account of Oedipus. But the question which 
we have to answer is this :—is there anything in what the chorus 
have so far witnessed which is likely to make them fear that 
Oedipus may really be such a sinner as they describe? 

Critics who take a sensible view of the character of Oedipus 
generally answer that the description simply does not apply. 
They assert that the ode becomes quite irrelevant to the drama, 
and they look about for something in the life of contemporary 
Athens which Sophocles may be supposed to be rebuking. We 
do not know the exact date of the Oedipus, and a wide field is 
opened for such conjectures. Some find in the dishonouring of 
‘the gods enshrined’ a reference to the famous mutilation of the 
Hermae. Others speak vaguely of the sophistic movement, or of 
the intellectual tendencies of Pericles and Anaxagoras. Others, 
more boldly, find that every phrase is suitable to the circumstances 
of an obscure scandal in Athenian politics connected with the 
treasures of Delphi. These ingenious persons even use the 
reference thus discovered as conclusive evidence for the date of 
the play. But the maxims stated by the chorus are traditional 
and so familiar that no ancient audience, without a more specific 
reference, could think the poet was alluding to contemporary 
politics. Bacchylides provides us, for example, with a short re- 
futation of such perverse ingenuities by putting into the mouth 
of Menelaus, who is demanding from the Trojans the restitution 
of his stolen wife, a speech which, phrase for phrase, corresponds 
to the moralising of our chorus. 

‘Trojans,’ he says, ‘and lovers of war, the grievous troubles of mortal men 

come not from Zeus, who rules on high and beholdeth all things. Nay, every 
man hath set before him a plain road that leads to unswerving Justice who 
walks with chaste Lawfulness and prudent Righteousness. Happy are they 
whose sons choose her to dwell with them. Insolence that knows not reverent 
fear, with all her wealth of crafty gainful wiles and wicked lightness of mind, 
aye, Insolence it is that giveth a man at one stroke another’s power and 
riches, then hurls him down to depths of ruin.’ 
Here we have all the elements: Justice, Law, Purity, and Zeus 
the Ruler in the Height; the contrasted Insolence that fears not 
Justice, that is irreverent, and that seeks an evil gain; and finally 
the fall from the height of power and prosperity into the gulf 
of ruin. 

Another interpretation is suggested by Professor Murray, more 


xliv INTRODUCTION 


tolerable than the theory of complete irrelevance, yet leaving the 
poem as a blot upon the play, ‘moving its wings heavily’ indeed. 
He supposes that the chorus are wondering whether Creon is a 
traitor and Teiresias a fraud. I submit that this view also implies 
a great reproach to Sophocles. At this stage in the drama we 
are anxious about Oedipus and Jocasta, and about no one else. 
If this chorus had followed directly upon the quarrel with Creon, 
Professor Murray would have saved the face of the poet. Where 
it stands, if the poem refers to Creon and Teiresias, we must 
admit that Sophocles has pro tanto destroyed the tragic effect. 
But, of course, if Professor Murray’s interpretation is really the 
natural interpretation of the Greek, there is no more to be said. 
Sophocles, like many other great poets, has made a mistake, and 
we must admit it. 

But is it the natural interpretation? The first stanza clearly 
refers to the hero and heroine, springing directly from the talk of 
oracles and of pollution. The last stanza speaks of the oracles 
again. In the second stanza the ‘good wrestling for the city’s 
good’ surely refers to all that we have heard, and so often heard, 
of the salvation brought to Thebes by Oedipus. Is it not natural 
also, even for a modern reader, having witnessed the growing 
anger and suspicion of the king, to think of Oedipus when he 
hears the words ‘Insolence it is that breeds a tyrant’? I hope to 
show that for an ancient audience the connection with Oedipus 
was not only possible, but obvious. Finally, the third stanza, in 
the perfectly normal lyrical fashion, returns from the hope that 
the ‘good wrestling’ will be rewarded, to the theme of the wicked 
man’s punishment. That is the natural and straightforward con- 
struction. ‘May I be pure and reverent: I know that Insolence 
breeds a tyrant, and that that ends in ruin: but I hope for the 
best, I hope that true patriotic effort may be rewarded: still, ifa 
man is wicked....’ The phrases exactly correspond, the ‘evil fate’ 
of 887 to the ‘ill-fated’ helpless doom of 877, the ‘ill-starred 
wantonness’ of 888 to the vain surfeiting of 874, and the irre- 
verence and the touching of the untouchable in 890f. to the 
reverent purity of 864. Both the normal lyrical method and the 
particular expressions here employed make untenable the theory 
that we have a series of disjointed reflections about Creon and 
Teiresias as well as about Oedipus and Jocasta, 


THE TYRANT xlv 


We ought, then, at least to attempt an interpretation which 
makes the ode an expression of anxiety about the character and 
fate of Oedipus. That brings us to our chief difficulty and to our 
chief task. Does the description fit the hero? So far as the final 
judgment of Sophocles and his audience is concerned, we have 
already seen reason to answer ‘no!’ For the chorus, ignorant of 
the sequel, and having witnessed the scenes with Teiresias, Creon 
and Jocasta, I believe that all is natural. The forebodings are 
expressed, not as an English spectator would express them, but 
as Greeks, imbued with the traditional Greek maxims, almost 
inevitably must. When they say that a ‘tyrant’—here, as Jebb 
admits, ‘a bad king’—is engendered by the ‘insolence which 
comes from a surfeit of riches, both excessive and unprofitable,’ 
we do not altogether fail to understand. They have seen Oedipus 
behaving in an overbearing manner, and they are afraid that he 
is puffed up with success. That is easy enough. It is the second 
description of the sinner that surprises an English or a German 
critic. It is true that the suggestion of the ‘touching of the 
untouchable,’ the violation of things inviolate, is natural enough 
to those who have been profoundly shocked by the talk of a 
monstrous marriage of Oedipus with his own mother. They 
wonder, hoping against hope, whether Oedipus is really the sort of 
man who is capable of such a crime. Of course they have no 
suspicion that the marriage is already an accomplished fact, and 
that it happened in circumstances which leave Oedipus morally 
guiltless. It is true also that talk of irreverence is entirely justified 
by the king’s unwarrantable denunciation of Teiresias and by 
the queen’s scepticism about oracles. In each of these matters 
we can readily understand the motive of Sophocles. Oedipus is 
essentially pure: yet the chorus may well tremble at his words. 
He is essentially pious: yet his behaviour might well suggest that 
he is impious about prophecy. But there remains a phrase which, 
one editor insists, ‘no interpretation in the world’ can make 
relevant to Oedipus :—‘If he refuse to gain his gains by just means.’ 
To any modern audience that phrase seems curiously unsuitable. 
Our question is whether it would seem natural to a Greek. The 
clue we shall find, as usual, in the normal, conventional, morality. 
Once admit that what has happened is sufficient to disturb an 
anxious person who sympathises but does not, of course, know 


xlvi INTRODUCTION 


the future, and sufficient to make him wonder whether, after 
all, Oedipus is really a bad man with a tyrant’s insolence, and 
you have made the whole poem plain. For the characteristics of | 
the sinner in the second strophe are the characteristics of the 
normal traditional ‘bad king.’ 

The quotation from Bacchylides to which I referred earlier 
in this chapter reminds us that these characteristics are in fact 
simply the characteristics of a prosperous bad man. And Athens 
developed her notion of the typical tyrant from the assumption, 
not altogether warranted by her history, and contradicted by her 
own view of Theseus and other heroic kings, that monarchy on 
the whole means government by a bad man who is prosperous. 

A king is rich and powerful, and therefore tempted, like all 
rich and powerful men, to be proud and despotic. If he is a 
good king, he rules for the good of his people, with their willing 
obedience, trusting and trusted, sharing his power with others. If 
he is, or becomes, a ‘tyrant’ he wields his power for his own 
advantage, his policy is dictated by the love of gain, he does not 
trust his friends, he claims to be sole ruler, sharing his authority 
with no one, and acknowledging no restraint of law. This con- 
ventional picture of the tyrant or bad king is a constant theme 
in the later Greek literature. We can trace it clearly—the char- 
acteristics are always in essentials the same—in Plato, Xenophon, 
Aristotle, Plutarch, Dio Chrysostom. Scholars who delight in 
the search for ‘the Source’ of a doctrine or a literary formula 
have worked hard at the tyrant. They have shown, by analysing 
the common characteristics and the slight differences of detail, 
that neither Plato nor Xenophon invented the ‘type.’ They have 
answered that the type must have been invented by someone who 
was directly or indirectly copied by all the rest. The lost treatise 
of Antisthenes, Archelaus or an Essay on Kingship, is sometimes 
called the ‘Source.’ But Euripides has combined in a famous 
passage of the /ow many of the characteristic traits. Very well, 
the Source used by Antisthenes was Euripides—or perhaps they 
both used another Source unknown to us. We have thus a sort 
of pedigree for the type, Antisthenes copies Euripides, Plato 


1 See H. Gomperz in Wiener Studien 27 (1905) pp- 174 ff., and note in Wiener 
Studien 24 (1902) pp. 1-69. Full references to the literature of the subject are given 
by Swoboda in Hermann’s Lehrbuch der griech. Antiguitaten 1913 vol. I part 3. 


THE TYRANT xlvii 


and Isocrates and Xenophon, all, in their different ways, copy 
Antisthenes. Aristotle copies again, and so on. The whole 
enquiry is fascinating, but dangerous. The results are vitiated by 
one omission. These scholars do not sufficiently allow for the 
common inheritance of popular, proverbial, talk. In Athens the 
Tyrannis is historically connected with the rule of the Peisistratids. 
That rule left memories of hate, partly, no doubt, because, although 
Peisistratus conferred great benefits on Athens, his son became 
in the face of opposition more oppressive; partly also because all 
Greeks, even the Spartans who had their own hereditary kings, 
disliked the notion of despotic power, particularly when it was 
exercised without the excuse of royal birth; partly again because 
the Persians themselves the slaves, as the Athenians thought, of a 
monstrous despotism, attempted to restore the Peisistratid. In 
tragedy we can trace the development in the popular mind of 
the equation Tyrant= Despot=Bad King. And Bad King means 
really a man in a position of great power and great wealth using 
his power and wealth badly. This popular development gives to 
the tragedians the opportunity for a fine piece of linguistic drama. 
They can use the word Tyrannos simply to mean a prince of great 
power, practically as a synonym of the Homeric Basileus, without 
any sinister effect. They can also use it for a despot, good or bad, 
a man of powers unrestrained by law, therefore a man greatly 
tempted to arrogance. Finally they can use it, as Sophocles does 
in this chorus, to mean a man who has yielded to temptation, who 
has seized power unjustly or who exercises his power, even if it 
was righteously acquired, in a manner which makes him, in the 
modern sense of the word, a tyrant. All that reflects and adapts 
to dramatic uses the popular vagueness’. When an author begins 
to formulate popular notions, classifying, analysing, modifying, 
and making clear, he is, of course, likely to produce (as Xenophon, 
Plato, Aristotle, and very probably Antisthenes, did) a picture 
varying in detail from that of other authors, but in very striking 
traits exactly parallel. Similar notions similarly expressed do not 

1 When Hippias of Elis (0.7. Avg. 11, Jebb p. 4) distinguished between the 
Tyrannus and the Basileus, he probably did so in order to insist that a vague popular 
distinction ought to be rigidly observed by correct speakers. Alcaeus /r. 37 clearly uses 
the word tiépavvos ad invidiam, and in Aesch. P. V. 736 the context shows that there 


is malice. Is not Zeds els ra wdvO’ duds Blacos? Cf. Plut. Vit. Hom. (Homer did not 
call rov Biatws kal rapavduws dpxovra a Tyrannos, because the word is post-Homeric). 


xlviii INTRODUCTION 


necessarily in Greek literature indicate the use of the same literary 
sources or of any literary source. Simply the traditional, popular 
ideas are worked up again and again in poetry, history and 
philosophy. 

Is the phrase of the chorus—‘unless he gain his gains by 
justice '—still remote and difficult? If so, I must elaborate my ar- 
gument, and try to show, at length for which I make a preliminary 
apology, how obvious to any Greek is the connection between the 
thought of tyranny and the thought of unjust gain. 

First, then, all men love gain. 

’"Avépes adddpynorai, whatever it may have meant when the 
phrase was first coined, meant to Athenian ears ‘gainful men,’ as 
Aeschylus shows us in his account of the ruin of the house of 
Oedipus: ruin caused by ‘the wealth of gainful men grown to too 
great fatness’ (Sepz. 770). The Greeks frankly admit the truth 
that most men are most interested in profit-making. Solon him- 
self, the champion of moderation, acknowledges that the desire 
for wealth is set in men by the gods, and cannot be uprooted. 
Only, he insists, ill-gotten gains are fleeting and dangerous. 
Antiphon says, and he is simply repeating a commonplace, that 
all men desire riches (fv. D), and Aristotle places in the forefront 
of his analysis of the causes of the overthrow of kings ‘the great- 
ness of their wealth and honour’—simply an old Pindaric, Hesiodic, 
pair of advantages—‘things which all men desire.’ A bad man 
naturally seeks his gain unjustly and, when he has it, is corrupted 
by it?. 

Secondly, kingship and wealth are proverbially associated. If 
you are saying that you are free from excessive ambition, a modest 
man with modest desires, how do you express it? This is what 
Archilochus says: 


I care not for the wealth of Gyges with his gold: I have not ever yet been 
seized by emulation: I envy not the life of the gods: I long not for a mighty 
throne (Tyrannis). 


The much later Anacreontic has the same combination: 


I care not for the wealth of Gyges (King of Sardis): I have never yet been 
seized by emulation: I envy not the tyrant. 


i Theognis 86, very few men are morol, olow éml yhboon Te Kai 6p arpoiow 
ereorw | aldws, ob5’ aloxpov xphu ert xépdos dye. Even Sappho has this commonplace: 
6 thobros dved ced y', dpéra, ’o7’ odk dolvns maporKos (/r- 80). 


THE TYRANT xlix 


Theocritus is modifying this old proverb when he composes 
his charming lines for the gentle lover: 

‘Not for me the land of Pelops, nor the fortune of a Croesus, nor the 
swiftness of the runner who can outstrip the wind’ [this is simply the glory 
that belongs to athletes, and completes the double happiness, wealth and 
fame] ‘ but to hold my love in my arms and sing....’ 

I hope I may take for granted the general connection between 
riches and a throne. If any doubt remains, Oedipus himself has 
answered it in his indignant cry 

O Wealth and Kingship.... 

Thirdly, since all men care for wealth, and since the hearts of 
kings are set on riches, a bad king, more than any other man, 
will ‘seek his gain unjustly.’ 

Though the attitude of Homer towards greed and rapine 
leaves something to be desired, he has, of course, his notion of 
the difference between a good prince and a bad. The devourer 
of the people and the shepherd of the people are contrasted. The 
personal element counts for much in judgment on these matters. 
What more exalted persons treat as the lawful privilege of Zeus- 
born Kings is regarded by Thersites as robbery. Still, it is signifi- 
cant that Thersites pitches on greed as the topic of his grumbling’. 
The noble prince’s view is that he earns his spoil®. This fact re- 
minds us that the proverbial moralities are rooted in realities. 
Just as the sleepless Agamemnon provides a constant trait in 
the character of the stock good king, so the denunciation of 
Agamemnon’s greed by Achilles is the first example of a series. 
of attacks on what becomes the proverbial greed of kings’. 

The Homeric illustration is particularly illuminating. Oedipus, 
like Agamemnon, is kept awake by his anxious thought for the- 
good of his people. But Creon, in the so-called ‘defence from the 
probabilities, which is dramatically as much a warning to the 
hero as a defence of the speaker himself, reminds Oedipus that 
humbler men sleep more peacefully. Whereas Oedipus is tortured 
by the suspicion that his wealth and his power provoke envy and 
hostile intrigue, Creon reminds him that ‘the good things in which. 
true gain lies’ are to be had by others than princes. When Oedipus,, 
at the end of the play, is bidden ‘not to seek the mastery in. 
everything, the moral derives its value from the scene in which 


1 7]. 11 225. 2 JI. x11 318. 3 Jl, 1122, 149, £70, 231. 


l INTRODUCTION 


he flouted the just claim of Creon to a citizen’s right. Well, in 
Homer, we may remember, the proverbial formula for this trait 
also is to be found. Achilles wants to be master of everyone in 
everything’. Yet this same Achilles provided the moralists with 
their typical good king who shares his power with others. ‘Take 
an equal share with me of kingship and its rights,’ he said to 
Phoenix?, And in the very scene in which he seems to become 
a tyrant, Oedipus, as Sophocles is careful to remind us, is still a 
generous ruler, sharing his office and its rewards with Creon and 
Jocasta*. When you recall how the //iad opens with a pestilence 
sent by Apollo, when you recall the supplication of the aged 
priest to Agamemnon, and the contrast, in the sequel, between 
the prophet Calchas, who ‘knew things present, future and past*, 
and the king, so blind with anger that he could not ‘look behind 
and before’, you begin to realise how Sophocles has used tradi- 
tional material. Calchas was afraid to speak because he knew 
the dangerous passions of kings. When he brought himself to 
speak the truth, he was rewarded by an insulting assurance that 
his answers were never satisfactory. Is he not the prototype of the 
typical unwilling prophet of evil? Should not the memory of his 
treatment help us to interpret the encounter between Oedipus 
and Teiresias, and warn us not to assume that Teiresias is meant 
to seem either fraudulent or malignant simply because he contra- 
dicts himself by at first refusing to speak and afterwards so 
eloquently changing his mind? Well, just as the contrast between 
Agamemnon and Calchas provides an element in the contrast 
between the wise Teiresias and the misguided king, so, in the 
subsequent contrast between the cautious Creon and the over- 
masterful Oedipus, a traditional element is drawn from the attack 
of Achilles on the greed of Agamemnon. The chorus when it 
speaks of ‘gains that are gained unjustly’ is remémbering the 
egoism with which its monarch swept aside the honest sobriety 
of his injured friend. 

But of course much history lies between Homer and Sophocles. 
The assumption that an unjust greed of gain is characteristic of 
bad kings is not derived by Sophocles as a direct and original 
observation from the works of Homer. It has passed into the 
stock of Greek moral commonplace, and it is for this reason that 


1 71. 11 287. 2 71. 1X 615. 8 0.7..579 ff. 471.1 70. 5 71. 1 340. 


THE TYRANT li 


Sophocles can play on the idea with allusions so subtle that 
a modern critic, as we have seen, is apt to call them frigid or ir- 
relevant. Turn to Pindar and you find him continually warning 
his patrons, in the most flattering terms of course, against the 
deceit of the love of gain. Why? Because that is the besetting 
temptation of men in high places, above all of wealthy princes. 
When Pindar’s Jason! meets the usurping Pelias it is in the 
most natural course that he should remind the tyrant that 
‘human hearts are ever, it is true, too quick to value gain above 
justice, gain won by guile, yet is it meet that I and thou should 
order our desires by righteousness in our planning for prosperity.’ 
The reference to ‘gain before justice’ is a hit at the tyrant. The 
righteous planning for happiness is the characteristic mark of the 
rightful prince. Or think again, to come nearer home to Athens, 
of the lawgiver Solon. His wisdom made him refuse to aim at 
despotism. His critics, who thought him a fool for his pains, 
would willingly, as they assured him, have submitted to be flayed 
alive and have their whole posterity ruined for the chance of 
‘seizing the power, getting great wealth, and being despot of 
Athens for a single day*.’ But Solon, let us not forget, rebuked 
the nobles of Attica in terms exactly corresponding to the stock 
indictment of the tyrant. Even the commons themselves, because 
they are swayed by money, ruin the city, and the leaders of the 
people, preparing ruin for themselves by their injustice, revel in 
their ill-gotten gains, ‘sparing not sacred property nor the pro- 
perty of the State, stealing, in order to prey upon everything on 
which they can lay hands, caring nothing for the solemn founda- 
tion of the altar of Justice*.’ But, if you are a democrat in fifth 
century Athens, you say that a tyrant or an oligarch tends to be 
greedy. Or you may go further and say, with Antiphon‘, that 
‘anyone who thinks a tyrant or a king is produced by anything 
else than lawlessness and the greed of gain is a fool!’ In view of 
the eminence of the critics who have asserted that our chorus is 
irrelevant, I must conclude that Antiphon’s remark was over- 
vigorous. 

So sober an historian as Thucydides will provide us with an 
illustration, not, I venture to think, because he is under any 
mythistorical delusion, but because he sees no objection to using 


1 Pyth. 1V, 139. 2 Fr. 33, 5» PP eke 4 Fr. F 56. 
d2 


lii INTRODUCTION 


popular formulae when they fit the facts.’ The Introduction of his 
great work is a study of the importance of the quest for gain in 
early Greek history. It is really amazing that he should have 
been charged by his modern critics with ignoring the economic 
factor in his work. The artistic unity of, the first book depends 
on the skill with which, under the pretence of glorifying his sub- 
ject in the epic manner, by proving that his theme is the greatest 
ever treated, he contrives to show us the importance of sea~power 
and of the trade that goes with it’. The stress which is laid on 
this element seems to me to give an intelligent reader exactly the 
right estimate of the probable importance of the economic factor 
among the causes of the war. For the Peloponnesian war, like 
other wars, was, as Thucydides makes clear, not merely the result 
of an economic policy, but rather the fruit of fear and jealousy and 
territorial ambitions, and, more immediately, of the criminal mis- 
management of a petty local dispute. When Thucydides says, 
therefore, that the despots had an eye in their policy ‘mainly to 
their own profit and to that of their households,’ I do not think 
that he isnecessarily contradicting the perfectly just account which 
he gives elsewhere of the benefits conferred by the Peisistratids 
on Athens, But he is certainly using words which are commonly 
employed to contrast the tyrant with the good and lawful king. 
Then again, on a larger’scale, his whole history relates how the 
Athenian Empire was transformed into a Tyrannis. Unless you 
are familiar with the proverbial formulae, and unless you recog- 
nise how familiar they already were to Athens, you will not 
appreciate the artistic merit—which in no way, I repeat, detracts 
from the truthfulness—of the history. Athenian Hegemony in 
Hellas was acquired as a return for benefit conferred on willing 
allies*, Aristotle asserts that the heroic kings in many instances 
owed their authority to the fact that they were the first great 
benefactors of the people in arts or in war. Even so Oedipus 
won his throne, a free gift, a reward for service rendered. And 
the Theban elders acknowledge the fact, even when they set 
against it their fear that he is behaving as a tyrant who rules ‘for 
his own gain.’ But the Athenians also fell'in love with gain. 
They fixed a tribute. They were leaders at first of free self- 
governing allies‘, but they proceeded to reduce the cities and 


1 See ¢.g. 8, 2: 13, 1: 17, 1. 23.98, 3 1 96. 41 97- 


THE TYRANT liii 


islands to slavery, first Naxos’, then the rest. Their exactions 
were the chief cause of disaffection®. It is no accident that the 
process is completed and the effect summed up by Thucydides? 
just before the Corinthians, clamouring for war, denounce the op- 
pressors: ‘We are idly looking on while a tyrant city is estab- 
lished in our midst*’? When we reach the Melian dialogue the 
Athenians themselves no longer claim to have won their empire 
justly®. 

My final illustration shall be drawn from tragedy. Enough 
has already been said to show that for an Athenian audience 
there existed an immediate and obvious connection between the 
behaviour of Oedipus towards Creon and the fear of the chorus 
that the king might after all be a tyrant, whose gains were gains 
of injustice. Elsewhere I have tried to show how the artistic 
value of the Heracles of Euripides depends on the assumption 
that the tyrant’s motive is the love of gain’. Let me now briefly 
refer to the Oresteza of Aeschylus, as an illustration of the way 
in which the use of these stock ideas in tragedy helped to mould 
the popular conception of the wicked king, and so led up to the 
formal definition of the later stock tyrannical type. The Ovesteza 
is the story of the good king Agamemnon, ruined in the moment 
of his triumph through his pride: of the usurper Aegisthus, who 
reaps the fruits of his fall and is himself struck down by the 
avenger: and finally of the avenger Orestes, who is commanded 
by the gods to commit an unnatural crime in the just cause of 
retribution. Here we have nothing like the formal and fully 
developed tyrant type, but we have abundant material for esti- 
mating the kind of way in which the formal type developed. 

Agamemnon has captured Troy, and is soon to return in 
triumph. The anxious talk of the chorus foreshadows his fall. 
Pride is to be the sin which heralds his catastrophe, but the 
temptation is to be intimately connected with his wealth. That 
is why it is so natural for the chorus, when they sing of his moral 
peril, to speak of the modest mean’. Agamemnon is a conqueror 
and a king. Therefore he possesses in excess the two proverbial 
elements of ‘happiness,’ Wealth and Praise. Notice in passing 
that these two elements are already made especially appropriate 

1 1 98. 2 199. 3 1 118. 41122. 5 vi 89-90. 
® Classical Quarterly 1916. 7 Ag. 385. 


liv INTRODUCTION 


to kings by Homer’. Agamemnon’s anxious subjects combine 


the two sources of peril: 
The man of mere success, 
Luck’s thriver in defect of righteousness’, 
that is to say, one who gains his gain unjustly is brought low in 
the end. Then immediately follows: ‘To be too well spoken of— 
that also is an evil.’ 

The herald who arrives before his master fits the thought to 
Agamemnon when he speaks of him as ‘ happy...and of all men 
now alive most worthy to be honoured®.” For himself he illus- 
trates by his piety the modest mean. His speech, tragic in effect, 
in spite of all his efforts at cheerfulness, may be summed up in 
the formulae: ‘On the whole the gain exceeds the loss,’ and ‘ No 
mortal man is altogether free from sorrow throughout all his life.’ 
The chorus once more elaborate the theme of riches and their 
danger, and once more we hear the moéif of praise and riches, 
when they speak of ‘the power of wealth, like coin made current 
by the false stamp of the world’s applause‘*,’ 

When Agamemnon at length appears, the chorus warn him 
against false praise, showing their own loyalty by reminding him 
of their past candour in criticism’. The flattering temptress 
Clytaemnestra fastens upon him the title ‘Happy,’ makes him ac- 
cept the réle of ‘Master, loads him with praise, induces him to 
make an arrogant display of wealth and to assume honours which 
put him on the level of the gods. We watch him as he walks to 
meet his death in the very moment of his sin. Immediately the 

1 Od. 1 392 ob mév ydp Te Kaxdv Baorreveuev’ alpa dé oi 54 | dgverdy wéAera Kal 
Tisnéorepos avrés. 

2 Ag. 385 (Headlam). 3 Ag. 535- : 

4 In illustration of this last phrase Headlam refers to a passage in Plato’s Laws 
(870) which is so relevant to the Oedipus that I will venture to quote it here. Whence, 
it is asked, come murders? The answer is: ‘ Desire is the cause, ruling as mistress of 
a soul which is made savage by its lust. And this occurs especially in that sphere in 
which is found the strongest and most commonly prevalent of most men’s desires—I 
mean the mighty power of riches, which breeds in men innumerable passionate desires 
for unbounded, never satisfied, possession, because of men’s natural dispositions and 
because of their evil lack of education. The cause of their lack of education is the way 
in which Greeks and barbarians alike are wont to talk of wealth, the evil way in 
which they praise it. They esteem it as the first of human goods....A man who is to 
be happy must not seek to be rich, but to be rich with justice and with moderation.’ 


° The tyrant, we remember, fails to distinguish between candid friends and 
flatterers. 


THE TYRANT lv 


chorus sing again. And the song is not merely concerned with 
pride but also with the danger of great possessions, the safety of 
the mean (990). 

The motive of the usurping Aegisthus, a tyrant in fact as in 
name (if we are unprejudiced we shall admit that the word has 
an evil sound in 1354, 1364, 1633), is vengeance, certainly, but 
also gain. Clytaemnestra, sick with her killing, tragically declares 
that for the future she desires no more than a modest portion in 
life (1575) but the bully and coward for whom she has worked 
holds very different language: with his ill-gotten riches he will 
crush the opponents of his usurpation (1638)1. 

Agamemnon is no tyrant. He is a great king, ruling by right 
divine. In his success ruin comes to him, first as the fruit of the 
crime of Aulis, then as the answer to the pride which made him 
behave as if he were a god. The association of these themes, 
however, with the temptations of excessive wealth helps us to 
realise how the popular notions crystallised into the regular 
type of the ‘bad king.’ Aeschylus is consciously comparing 
Agamemnon the sacker of Troy with those of his own con- 
temporaries who had helped to overthrow the insolence and 
riches of the Persian only to fall themselves under the sway of 
gold and pride. But the ideas are older than the application, and 
the tragic value of the gold of the Persae, for example, is based 
on popular reminiscences of the fatal wealth of ancient Troy. 
When the scattered notions have been gathered up by theorists 
and fashioned into the image of the typical tyrant, the gold which 
ruined Priam and Agamemnon and Pausanias is not forgotten. 
Similarly, when the tyrant becomes a type, he is always unable 
to tell friend from foe. Agamemnon, who is not a typical tyrant, 
is vainly warned by the chorus of the need for such discrimination, 
and the fact is significant for those who are trying to trace the 
development from the popular notions to the type. Need I point 
out that in the Oedzpus the scene with Creon derives significance 
from the thought that tyrants do not recognise their sincerest 
friends? 

In the Choephoroe the recovery of the stolen property is for 
Orestes one powerful motive, stressed in a manner perhaps dis- 


1 At Clytaemnestra’s speech we remember the triumphant and ostentatious sacrifices 
of the usurper in Hom. Od. 111 273 ff. 


lvi INTRODUCTION 


quieting to a modern reader, but true enough to human nature, 
The usurping adulterer has many of the traits which later go to 
make up the tyrant type. Instead of the old reverent awe of the 
city for its excellent princes, ‘fear’ and ‘constraint,’ the chorus 
tell us, now prevail. The themes of greed for possession, bloody 
violence, sexual lust, and suppression of free speech, are all here 
waiting to be incorporated as part of the formal type. In 780 ff. 
we have a prayer for the success of Orestes. It takes the form of 
praise for the due mean in mind and in estate, combined with 
the appeal to the gods of wealth at Delphi to see that the usurped 
‘gain’ (xépdos) be given back into the rightful owner's hands. 
Then in the Eumenides Orestes is tried for the righteous crime 
of mother-murder. What place has talk of ‘unjust gain’ when sins 
so much more appalling are our theme? Well, when the Furies 
protest that to acquit the matricide will imply a moral revolution 
(494), sweeping away that due fear of the consequence of sin, and 
that due sense of man’s insignificance wherein lies ‘true advantage, 
they elaborate thus their praise of the modest mean: 

(529) Neither the life that is ungoverned shalt thou approve, nor the life 
that is ridden by a master. God hath granted to the Mean that it prevail in 
all....In very truth as Insolence is surely the child of Impiousness, so it is 
from Healthfulness of mind [z.e. Sophrosyne, ‘knowing oneself’] that the true 
Prosperity (6\Bos), which all men love and pray for, springs. Here is the 


whole conclusion : Reverence the Altar of Justice. Do not raise your god- 
less foot to do it injury, because you see some gain to be won. 


Then, later in the same ode, we have: 


(552) He that is just, so far as his free will can go, apart! from some over- 
mastering constraint, shall not be without prosperity, and altogether ruined 
he shall never be. But the perverse and obdurate, who, transgressing, gathers 
in from every side the spoils, confused, unjustly, to his ship of fortune,...is 
sailing to a storm of calamity and to final ruin. 

They are moved to this lofty strain, let me remind you, by 
the matricide of Orestes, not by theft or greed. Why, then, this 
stress upon unlawful gains? This theme found its place in the 
Agamemnon, though Agamemnon sins and falls through pride 
and his daughter’s sacrifice, rather than through greed of gold. 
In the Choephoroe it recurs, and is made directly relevant by the 
usurper’s greed. Finally it reappears in the Eumenides, when we 


? For drep in this sense cf. Ag. 1146 Headlam. Also, I suspect, Antigone 4. The 
sense is parallel to the éxdév of Simonides, pages xxix ff. 


THE TYRANT lvii 


are absorbed by the problem of the matricide. Why? We may 
answer, it is true, that Agamemnon is too much set on riches, and 
that the Furies have some excuse for hinting that Orestes profits 
by the murder. But the recurrent stressing of the theme is too 
marked to be accounted for in this way. The reason for the 
insistence is, I hope, by this time obvious. Every man longs for 
wealth, and if you are lucky and get it, you long for more. There- 
fore a sinful king is normally and habitually treated as one who 
‘gains his gain at the expense of justice.’ 

The general idea which dictates the detail of the tyrant- 
formula is simply, as I have said, the notion that a tyrant is a bad 
man who is prosperous and powerful. The Zyrannis is regarded 
as ‘the last and worst Injustice,’ the éoyarn décxia. But for 
a Greek the word dé:xia suggests more than the word Injustice 
normally suggests to us. All ‘wrongs,’ against whomsoever they 
be committed, may be included under this one head. As an 
ancient formulator of popular ethics who lived long after Sopho- 
cles informs us ([Aristotle] de Vint. et Vit. 7), aducia may fall 
into any one of three main classes, Impiety, the wronging of the 
gods (deé8e.a), Violence, the injuring of another’s person (fps), 
and Greed, the grasping of another’s property (deovefia). Of 
course the tyrant-formula, not by any process of deliberate 
analysis, but through the unconscious and natural working of the 
popular ideas, includes all three forms of Injustice. The tyrant is 
normally sacrilegious. Oedipus, of course, is not. Yet his treat- 
ment of the prophet makes the chorus fear for him that he is a 
man who may, in spite of his good past, turn out in the end to 
be a tyrant, one ‘who honours not the gods enshrined.’ The 
tyrant commits every sort of wrong against the persons of his 
subjects. Normally he seizes the sons and daughters of the 
citizens, and makes them the instrument of his sexual lawless- 
ness. Oedipus is no such scoundrel. Yet the talk of incest has 
disturbed the chorus. Is it possible that Oedipus may, after all, 
some day prove to be a man who, like the tyrant, ‘touches things 
untouchable’? Finally the tyrant, of course, governs for his own 
profit, seeks his gain by all means, fair and foul. Oedipus, we 
know, and the chorus have long believed it, is essentially a good 
king, governing for the good of others, prizing only the gains that 
are justly won. Yet the chorus have seen how, like a tyrant, he 


Wiii INTRODUCTION 


has turned against his loyal friend. They have heard Creon’s 
appeal for justice with its contrast between kingship and the 
gains that are really gains. At the climax of the quarrel between 
Oedipus and his loyal counsellor, they have heard from the lips 
of the king words which imply that, like a tyrant, he is deter- 
mined to maintain his rule, by justice or injustice’, ‘wise for his 
own interest?,’ treating the city as his own possession®*. Is it sur- 
prising that they wonder whether, after all, the king is becoming 
a tyrant—one who ‘refuses to gain his gains by justice’? 

Do you still think the phrase unsuitable? Perhaps you have 
not noticed how the thought is related to the composition of the 
drama as a whole? When Teiresias, the representative of the 
divine foreknowledge, first appears before the human reader of 
riddles, whose wisdom is so great and yet so small, he speaks, 
not only of himself, but also, for the audience, most significantly, 
of Oedipus: 

Ah me! It is but sorrow to be wise 

Where wisdom profits not. 
The king, you will remember, thinks that the prophet has ‘an eye 
for nothing but his gain, and is corrupted by his jealousy of 
a rival’s greater wisdom. The audience knows well that the wis- 
dom ‘which profits a man’ is the wisdom of Sophrosyne. That 
wisdom, as we shall see, the king will learn, and will teach us 
also, through his tragedy. Accordingly, when Creon is confronted 
by the overweening claims and threats of the suspicious king, it 
is for a warning to Oedipus, not only as a frigid ‘argument from 
the probabilities” that he contrasts the gains which are really 
gains with the fears and glories of a royal throne. Those fears 
and glories none, he says, will passionately desire ‘who knows 
Sophrosyne.’ 


* 628. * 630. 3 626. 


CHAPTER IV 
SOPHROSYNE 


THE last scenes of the Oedipus are sometimes described as 
‘ruthless, ‘harsh, and even ‘for a modern audience, intolerable.’ 
It is thought that in this, his greatest tragedy, the poet has not 
allowed that relaxation of the strained emotions which in most 
Greek tragedies gives quietness, instead of horror, at the end. In 
Paris, let me admit, the poet has not been so grossly misunder- 
stood. The finished art of M. Mounet-Sully triumphed here as 
throughout the play. The effect was terrible and passionate, but 
also, as it should be, beautiful. Yet a Greek performance must 
have been even more restrained. The scene was composed for 
music. The cries of Oedipus are rhythmical, and were meant to 
be sung, not screamed or shouted. As the first transport of his 
passion leaves him, the rhythm becomes less violent, though from 
time to time the memory of the wrong that he has suffered and 
inflicted stirs him to a fiercer outburst of bitterness. At length 
the thought runs clearer, and the verse falls into the regular beat 
of the iambic. The self-respect, so generous and so dignified, with 
which the hero greets the coming of Creon, shows us that in him 
nobility can triumph over pain and even over degradation: and 
the man who at such a time can lavish all his anxiety and love 
upon the children, who are the symbols of his tragedy, is greatest 
in his greatest affliction. 

Yet I think that many readers must have thought the words 
with which Oedipus takes leave of his children very strange and 
cold. I will quote Professor Murray’s version, not because it is 
worse, but because it is better, than most. Nearly all editors 
agree with his interpretation’, though few of them could present 
the words in a form which so little jarred upon the ear. 


2 Jebb, Wilamowitz, Bruhn, accept the same reading, which they translate with a 
more literal accuracy, but with less poetical tact. 


Ix INTRODUCTION 


If your age could understand, 
Children, full many counsels I could give. 
But now I leave this one word: Pray to live 
As life may suffer you, and find a road 
To travel easier than your father trod. 
CREON 
Enough thy heart hath poured its tears ; now back into thy house repair. 


This is Jebb’s version: 

To you, my children, I would have given much counsel were your minds 
mature; but now I would have this to be your prayer—that ye live where oc- 
casion suffers, and that the life which is your portion may be er than 
your sire’s. 

Is it possible that Oedipus bids his children pray ‘to live 
where occasion suffers’? Has he no better prayer for them than 
this...that they may take life as it comes? 

Even if we are blind to the dramatic ineptitude, we ought to 
know that to a Greek ear such a prayer would sound very nearly 
impious. The fortune for which a pious Greek should pray is not 
to live ‘where occasion suffers, ‘where opportunity allows,’ but 
to possess ‘a modest measure of good, enough yet not too much, 
and a good enjoyment thereof, with the modest good sense which 
alone makes such enjoyment possible. And that, in fact, is what 
Oedipus means. An unlucky emendation, and a foggy notion 
that xatpos generally means ‘opportunity,’ have made the editors 
spoil the perfect gentleness of the concluding scene. The simple 
phrase ‘to live where the Due Measure is’ has associations for 
Greek ears which we must learn if we are to understand. Oedipus 
was great, and wise, and fortunate. In his calamity he has now 
learnt that the best is found not in greatness but in quiet happi- 
ness, not in riches but in sufficiency, not in genius but in sweet 
reasonableness. Happiness comes not by riches and power, not 
by good luck and opportunity. And for a Greek this thought is 
expressed by the words which are inscribed on the temple of the 
Delphic Apollo, the presiding divinity of our play, ‘ Vothing too 
much.’ 

The prayer which Oedipus would teach his children has had 
a history as august as its meaning is profound. It was not in- 
vented by Sophocles, and it is still used to-day. It is the prayer 
for Sophrosyne—for a modest measure of prosperity and for the 
right mind without which true happiness is not to be won. When 


SOPHROSYNE lxi 


Juvenal, in words which are so familiar that we have forgotten 
their meaning, bids his reader pray 


ut sit mens sana in corpore sano, 


he repeats a lesson which has come to Rome from the Stoics. 
But the Stoics learnt it from the ancient religion of Delphi. The 
Christian prayer which speaks of ‘health in mind, body, and 
estate’ is a repetition of the pagan prayer for modesty of mind, 
wherein lie safety and content, for strength of body sufficient yet 
not excessive’, and for a modest competence of material wealth. 

It is because such thoughts as these are at once suggested by 
the word xavpos to the Athenian mind that the last scene is 
invested with a beauty which, without hiding any tragic issue, 
seems to heal the wounds that the tragedy has made. The short 
trochaic dialogue which leads to the final moral recalls theme 
after theme of the earlier drama, and for each theme suggests the 
final word of wisdom. Then, at iength, the chorus? state the 
lesson of his tragedy®: 


Dwellers in our native Thebes, behold, this is Oedipus, who knew the 
famed riddles, and ‘was a man most mighty; on whose fortunes what citizen 
did not gaze with envy? Behold into what a storm of dread trouble he hath 
come! 

Therefore, while our eyes wait to see the destined final day, we must call 
no one happy, who is of mortal race, until he hath crossed life’s border, free 
from pain. 


Nothing is here of guilt. The moral is simple and based on 
truth. Oedipus was happy, and is now unhappy...therefore let 
us remember of what sort is the life of man. 

The full beauty of this conclusion can only be appreciated by 
a modern reader if he will consent to study the associations 


1 This motif is suggested by the vigour and pride of the victorious athlete. Its 
application in tragedy is connected with Heracles, whom his great strength of body 
could not save from calamity. See my remarks on Euripides Hercules Furens, 
Classical Quarterly 1916. 

2 It is distressing to find that this speech has been suspected on the ground that 
the sentiment is ‘ weak’ after the stronger declaration of the chorus in 1187. The 
truth is not ‘weaker’ than the half-truth. At line 864 ff. the chorus state a moral 
theory which does not really fit the case of Oedipus. After the disastrous revelation 
they come nearer to the truth, but exaggerate. Now at the end we hear the exact 
truth. 

5 I quote Jebb’s version, from which I differ in unimportant details. 


Ixii INTRODUCTION 


normally connected with the two maxims ‘ Measure is best’ and 
‘Call no man happy before the end.’ Notice, first, that the two 
are not felt as separate and disconnected. Oedipus has at the 
end, in a higher sense than in his tragic discovery, learnt to ‘know 
himself’ The Delphic temple had two inscriptions for the 
edification of the worshipper. One was the negative ‘ Nothing 
Too Much,’ the other was positive, but closely akin to the first: 
‘Know thyself’ That meant for Oedipus the tragic discovery of 
his pollution. It means also this: ‘Know that thou art but a man, 
the creature of a day: and, knowing this, be modest and be 
prudent. Remember that the greatest gift of the gods is not 
cleverness nor power nor wealth nor fame, but the spirit of 
Sophrosyne.’ Now Sophrosyne is the spirit of the man who 
knows that he is mortal, and in all things shuns excess. This 
doctrine, though its proverbial form is popularly associated with 
Solon, is really one of those pieces of ancient wisdom ‘whose be- 
getting no man knows, attributed to Solon as a typical wise man. 
His verse, as every Athenian knew, is full of the spirit of the 
doctrine. Though the story of his meeting with Croesus is 
imaginary, it will be worth our while to recall the account given 
by Herodotus of the famous interview. Herodotus was a friend 
of Sophocles, and in spirit his tale of Croesus has affinities with 
the Sophoclean point of view. Of course the tone of his anecdote, 
as becomes a story which gathers a happy company in the 
market-place, ‘is far from tragedy’. 

Croesus, the king of Lydia, conquered many nations, and was 
very rich: when his prosperity was at its height all the sages of 
Greece came, one after another, to visit his court, among them 
Solon, the wise Athenian lawgiver. When Solon had seen the 
palace and the treasures, their greatness and magnificence, then 
Croesus asked: ‘Stranger of Athens, we have heard much of your 
wisdom and of your travel through many lands from love of 
knowledge and a wish to see the world. I am curious, therefore, 
to enquire of you, whom, of all the men that you have seen, you 
deem the most happy?’ This he said because he thought himself 
the happiest of mortals: but Solon answered him without flattery, 
according to the truth. ‘The happiest was an humble Athenian, 
who saw his city prosper, and his sons’ sons grow up beautiful 

1 Hadt. 1 30 ff. 


SOPHROSYNE lxiti 


and good. His good fortune lasted till his death, for he died 
fighting in battle for his city. And next were two young athletes 
of Argos, who had bodily strength and a sufficient livelihood: 
they died, when their mother moved by their filial piety had 
prayed the gods to give them the best of their gifts'’ 

Then Croesus broke in angrily: ‘What, Stranger of Athens, is 
my happiness nothing to you? Do you not set me even on 
a level with these commoners?’ ‘Croesus,’ replied the other, ‘you 
put a question on man’s life to one who knows that the power 
above is full of jealousy* and wont to trouble our lot. A long life 
gives one to witness much and experience much that one would 
not choose. Seventy years I set as the limit of man’s life.... Twenty- 
six thousand two hundred and fifty days, of which not one but 
will produce events unlike the rest.... You, Croesus, you I see are 
wonderfully rich, and are the master of many nations: but for 
your question I have no answer to give, until I hear that you 
have closed your life in happiness....For he who is greatly rich is 
not at all more happy than he who has enough for the day’s need, 
unless the fortune that goes with him to the end be this—to make 
a good end, still possessing all his good. Many that are very rich 
are unhappy, and many that have a modest competence are 
lucky....He who unites the greatest number of advantages and 
retaining them to the day of his death, then dies peaceably, that 
man alone, O King, is in my judgment worthy to bear the name 
of happy. In every matter it behoves us to mark well the end. 
Often God gives men but a gleam of happiness, then plunges 
them into ruin.’ 

Soon after, Croesus suffered a great calamity, ‘sent to punish 
him, it is likely, because he thought himself the happiest of men.’ 
The tale is no idle anecdote. Croesus, the first oriental monarch 
who ‘subdued some Greeks and made alliance with others’ (1 6), 
is the prototype of Cyrus, of Cambyses, of Dareius, and, above 
all, of Xerxes himself. This fact gives unity to the historian’s 
compilation. Throughout the work we are reminded that the real 

1 In Herodotus, as in Sophocles, the maxim that none should be called happy till 
his death is combined with praise of the Modest Measure. The Athenian Tellos, 


whose happiness lasted till his death, was also ‘ well off according to Athenian standards’ 


(rod Blov eb qxovTt ws Ta wap’ jyiv) and the happy Argive lads possessed ‘a competency 
for their livelihood’ (8los dpxéwv). 
2 This element hardly appears in Sophocles. 


Ixiv INTRODUCTION 


advantage lies with men of modest life and modest means. The 
rich and grasping conqueror is brought low because he lacks 
Sophrosyne. When at last, against his better judgment, the wise 
counsellor of Xerxes makes an end of warnings, and assents to 
the fatal expedition against Greece, we think again of Solon!?: 

O King, I, being but a man, and one that has already seen many and 
great things brought low by lesser things, was not willing to allow you to 
yield to every impulse of your youth ; knowing that to desire overmuch is evil; 
remembering the expedition of Cyrus against the Massagetae, how it fared ; 
remembering also the enterprise of Cambyses against the Aethiops, yes, and 
myself a soldier with Dareius against the Scythians. Knowing these things, 
I made it my design that you, in unambitious quietness, should earn the name 
of happy from all mankind. But, as it is.... 

It would be a pleasant task to show in detail how the pages 
of Herodotus are crowded with allusions to this doctrine and 
how detail after detail illustrates the Oedipus. It is not only 
characteristic of the art of Herodotus, but also relevant to our 
study of Sophocles, that Croesus, when he has learnt his lesson, 
speaks of Solon as a man so wise ‘I would relinquish a great 
fortune to have him brought to converse with all the kings of the 
world,’ As Solon was to Croesus, so was Croesus to Cyrus and 
Cambyses, and so was Artabanus to Dareius and Xerxes. May 
we not add, so also is Creon to Oedipus? 

But Herodotus did not invent these notions. Aeschylus him- 
self had used them in the very form in which they are attributed 
to Solon. Clytaemnestra, the incarnate Temptation (Ie6), is 
urging her victorious husband to make an ostentatious use of 
riches and to take to himself honours properly belonging to the 
gods. At first he refuses, but his refusal, as Walter Headlam 
pointed out, is the refusal of a weak man, pouring out a string 
of moralities which come from the tongue, not from the heart. 
Among them is our proverb, duly coupled with the praise of the 
modest mind?: 


Let your homage 
Yield to me not the measure of a God, 
But of a man.... 
A modest mind’s the greatest gift of Heaven, 
The name felicity’s to keep till men 
Have made an end in blessing. 


1 vir 18. 2 915-920 Headlam. 


SOPHROSYNE Ixv 


In the final struggle the temptress presses her advantage. Just 
before her victim yields, she gives him, and he virtually accepts, 
the fatal title of ‘happy.’ 

According to Jebb, the maxim ‘call no man happy till the 
end’ appears as a set yvwyn for the first time in this passage of 
the Agamemnon. It is more important to observe that here already 
it appears as.a perfectly trite and familiar adage. Unless we 
realise that a Greek audience is already well aware of the con- 
nection between this doctrine of the uncertain future and the need 
for moderation, we shall not understand the earliest of all ex- 
tant Greek tragedies, the Suppliants of Aeschylus. When the 
daughters of Danaus are violently asserting their determination 
never to submit to the embraces of their cousins, they are reminded 
of this doctrine by their more gentle handmaidens. They protest 
against the suggestion that they may some day yield. ‘You are 
trying, they cry, ‘to persuade one that is not to be persuaded.’ 
The answer is: ‘And you...you know not the future.’ Forced to 
admit that they are indeed unable to foresee the issues of the 
‘unfathomed mind’ of Zeus, they are bidden ‘ Therefore let your 
prayer be one of moderation.’ This means that they ought not 
to make arrogant assertions, but rather to pray that, if it be the 
will of Zeus—the sequel shows it is not—they may escape. 
‘What is this Measure,’ they reply, ‘that you are fain to teach 
me?’ The answer is: ‘Observe the rule of No Excess concerning 
all that depends upon the will of heaven.’ Here also, though the 
application is different, we have all the elements which are com- 
bined in the close of the Oedzpus—the contrast between human 
ignorance and the knowledge of the gods, the insistence upon the 
uncertainty of the future, the Measure («xaspos) and the modest 
prayer’. 

Go back some generations from these Amazons of Aeschylus, 
and listen to the songs which Spartan maidens sang before the 
drill-sergeant had changed their country’s soul. You will hear 
notes of the same old strain, though the allusions are made with 
so delicate a grace that I fear the commentators have not always 
appreciated their point. The girls for whom Alcman made his 
Partheneion have been singing of the wicked ambition and the 
ruin of certain heroes, who aspired to marriage with the im- 


1 Aeschylus Supp/ices ad fin. 
Ss. é 


Ixvi INTRODUCTION 


mortals—for excess in matters of Aphrodite, and the desire to 
make great marriages, are among the many forms assumed by 
the tendency of mortal men to ‘think thoughts that are above 
mortality!’ This is how they moralise their story before they 
turn to lighter themes: 

The gods avenge: and happy he 


Who weaves in cheerful piety 
His day, without a tear”. 


The desire of the maidens is for the cheerful heart that comes 
only from Sophrosyne. They contrast it with the wanton violence 
of the ruined heroes. The delightful sequel, in which they fall 
into two companies, praise their respective leaders, and profess 
to be scornful of the charms of their companions, is an illustration 
of the ‘pious cheerfulness’ of which they have sung. 

It is indeed the choral lyric, and especially the epinician odes 
of Bacchylides and Pindar, that can best teach us both the 
familiarity of these mozzfs and their special relevance to Oedipus. 
But, unfortunately, of all Greek poems the epinician odes are to 
most modern readers the most obscure. To his contemporaries 
Pindar was a delight: to modern schoolboys he is—it must be 
confessed—a burden. The reason is not simply that we find his 
rhythms or his syntax difficult, nor simply that we miss'the dance 
and the music which were meant to accompany his odes. The 
chief cause is that we have to read him to discover the ideas 
which his audience already knew by heart. He has a message 
only for those who know, before he speaks, the doctrine that he 
is to preach. When he talks of his words ‘having a message only 
for the intelligent,’ he is flattering his audience: of course they 
understand quite easily. But we, who have to deduce from his 
words, not only the name and parentage of his patron, but also, 
often, the nature of the athletic victory that he is celebrating, the 
circumstances of his performance, the legends to which he alludes, 
the very morality which he takes for granted, and which forms 


1 Cf. Pindar Pyth. 11 27 Aids dxourw éweipdro, xph 62 Kar’ adrov alet wavrds dpav 
uérpov. The xatpds in Love fr. 123, 127, Nem. vii gf. 

2 Aleman Parthen. 36 ff. 6 5 édBuos doris edppwv duepay Suamdéxer dkavoros. The 
word eippwv implies both a cheerful and a ‘right’ mind. The word d«\avoros cor- 
responds to the final wndev dd-yewdv maddy of the Oedipus, and is different from ev¢pwv, 
since it implies freedom from calamity. I have discussed the rest of this delightful 
poem in Zssays and Studies presented to William Ridgeway pp- 124 ff. 


SOPHROS YNE Ixvii 


his raw material, may be forgiven if we think that he is boasting 
of his own obscurity. When he talks of the swiftness and the 
ease with which he flies, like a bee or an eagle, from theme to 
theme, and when he poses as the natural poet who flings out at 
random all the wealth of poetry which throngs into his mind, 

some of us are foolish enough to believe him. In fact, he is of all 
poets most deliberate and most ingenious in his arrangement of 
material. But it is only if, like his audience, we know the normal 
and familiar connections of proverb with proverb and of fact with 
illustration, that we shall perceive the art which with a mock 
ingenuousness he disclaims. His poems have been compared to 
elaborate embroideries, whose design is not at first sight obvious. 
To his audience the design was obvious, because the stuff of the ~ 
embroidery was familiar, and because the simpler patterns, out 
of which the intricate device was made, were commonplaces. 
The same remarks apply to Bacchylides, though his pattern is 
somewhat simpler. As illustration I will take his third poem, 

which depends for its effect upon the familiarity of the audience 
with the story of Croesus and of Solon’s good advice. I suspect 
that an unprejudiced reader, if he were to struggle unassisted 
with, for instance, Jebb’s translation, would decide that this poem 
is a jerky, ill-constructed, rather nonsensical effusion. Be that as 
it may, I venture to make a fresh attempt at translation, because 
I believe that, in the light of our discussion, even the imperfections 
of my version will not conceal the balanced beauty of the com- 
position. Even apart from the poetical value of the work, it is 
worth while to consider it at this point of our enquiry, because it 
treats the doctrine of Due Measure and the maxim of Solon in 
their special application to the fortunes of a despotic king. It 
will, I hope, help us to realise how suitable it is that the moral 
should be applied by Sophocles to Oedipus. 

The poet’s object is to conceal the flattery of his patron in a 
cloak of moral advice. 

Hiero, despot of Syracuse, has won a victory at Olympia 
with the four-horsed chariot. The race is one of great importance, 
which kings and nobles are particularly proud to win, because it 
implies not only their interest in athletic prowess but also their 
lavish expenditure, and, consequently, their great wealth. An 
Olympian victor is in any case a favourite of fortune, and if he is 


é2 


Ixviii INTRODUCTION 


also a king—well, his fortune is such that a poet who celebrates 
it is expected to wrap his praise in the safe moralities of ‘modera- 
tion.’ It is unlucky to be too lucky. The poet’s task is to suggest 
that His Majesty is really the best and happiest of men by means 
of a poem which ostensibly warns him against excess, and con- 
gratulates him on being, ‘so far as a mortal can be, and should 
desire to be,’ fortunate. . 

Bacchylides, developing perhaps a hint from Pindar, ac- 
complishes his delicate task by a very happy comparison of 
Hiero to Croesus. The unity of the poem depends on our know- 
ledge—Bacchylides is too good a courtier to make his point 
directly—that Croesus was actually, unlike Hiero, doomed to 
lose his throne. In the version of the myth which is chosen by 
Bacchylides for his purpose the Lydian monarch is carried off 
by Apollo, as a reward for piety, to the happy country of the 
Hyperboreans. Yet everyone in the audience, including the de- 
lighted Hiero, knows perfectly well that the fall of Croesus is a 
gentle warning against excessive confidence in good luck. In 
Herodotus we have a different version of his later career. He is 
kept alive in order to accompany Cambyses, as the incarnate 
warning against the excesses which bring that unhappy monarch 
to his doom. 

The poem opens thus: 

Sing, Muse of Fame, the praise of Demeter, Queen of rich-fruited Sicily, 
and of her daughter, the Maiden violet-crowned, and of Hiero’s swift steeds 
that ran at Olympia. Victory and Splendour went with them, as they rushed 
to the goal by the broad torrent of Alpheus, where they made the son of 
Deinomenes Happy—made him winner of the crown! 

And a cry went up from the multitude of the people: ‘All Hail, Thrice 
Happy !’...Zeus hath bestowed on him the greatest sway and princedom in all 
Greece, yet hath he wisdom and keeps not the high-built fabric of his wealth 
veiled from the world in curtains of darkness. The temples are populous with 
his feast and sacrifice. The ways of the city are thronged by his hospitable 
entertainment. Brightly gleams and flashes the gold of the high and won- 
drous tripods he hath set before the shrine, where the Delphians by Castalia’s 
fountain serve the great sanctuary of Apollo! Tis on the god that men should 
spend their splendour. In such spending lie the riches that are best. 


Praise can rise no higher. To call a man Thrice Happy is even 
dangerous. We know, of course, that an exhortation to modesty 
must follow. So the king is told that it is not enough to have 


SOPHROSYNE lxix 


riches: he must know how to use his riches well. While the poet 
preaches, he still flatters. Hiero needs no reminder: who can 
doubt that Hiero has already learnt the pious use of wealth, 
when he sees the golden tripods that the king has dedicated at 
Delphi? . 

The sequel has been sadly misunderstood. The mention of 
the Delphic tripods marks a transition—surely, not, as Jebb says, 
‘inartistic’—to the theme of Croesus, who also honoured Apollo. 
The story of his prosperity and fall has warning as well as com- 
fort for the aged Hiero. Croesus, because he was rich, had 
thought himself the happiest of men. But presently calamity 
came. That is what Bacchylides hints, though he tells us of the 
happier aspect of the end. Since Croesus was pious and generous, 
therefore, although he fell, he was not utterly overwhelmed. 
Hiero, of course, is generous as Croesus, and more modest. He 
may reasonably hope for heaven’s continued favour, though not 
even he may hope for perfect happiness. 

Hiero, theme of men’s praise, none shall be found, of all that dwell in 
Hellas, to boast that he hath given more gold to Loxias than thou. All men, 
save he whose pride is fed by envy, may praise thee, the warrior hero, that 
delightest in horses, wielder of a sceptre given by Zeus the god of justice, 
sharer in the delights of the dark-tressed Muses...and may call thee one that 
is at peace with the gods. 

Notice in passing that the stress falls on @eodsA4, which is 
ambiguous, and implies both piety and its reward. Troubles, the 
poet adds, must come, like sudden tempests. But Hiero, unlike 
Croesus, will be safe: 

Your eyes are fixed on the Modest Mean (xaipia oxomeis)! Our life is 
short, uncertain; and a cheat is hope, who steals into the hearts of men, the 
creatures of a day. Aye, as the King Apollo, when he was an humble shep- 
herd, said to Admetus: ‘Two thoughts there are, which, being mortal, you 
should cherish. Think ever of the morrow as the last day you will see. 
Imagine also that fifty years of opulent life are yours. In taking your delight, 
therefore, remember piety. In piety lie the gains that are the highest.’ 

My words are understood of one that is wise. Only the depths of the 
divine Aether remain ever unpolluted. Only the waters of Ocean are always 
pure. Gold is indeed a delight!, but remember that a man may not pass be- 


1 A misunderstanding of the final clauses, where the stress is on piety, not 
on delight, has led Jebb into serious error in his interpretation of this and the following 
passage. He asserts that Bacchylides by a ‘lapse’ in his rhetoric has called gold a ‘de- 
light’ when he should have called it a ‘delight for ever.’ If he had so called it, he 
would have been as foolish and as impious as an oriental tyrant! 


Ixx” INTRODUCTION 


yond old age and hoary hairs and bring again his youth. Yet one thing fades 
not as the body fails—the light of good deeds lives. 

That is the moral. Gold is corruptible. In nature only the 
bright aether! and the purifying waters of eternal seas, and in 
man only virtue and the praise of virtue, are beyond the power 
of change. Therefore, though we take our delight, let it be ever 
with piety and remembrance of our littleness. 

In his first Pythian, composed two years before this poem, 
Pindar himself had compared Hiero for his munificence to Croesus. 
Here also you will find that an artistic unity is given to an in- 
tricate pattern by the subtle association of the warning and the 
flattery with themes that are important in the Oedipus. Two 
motifs, wealth and reputation, predominate. This is the conclusion 
which sums up the artistic whole: 

That a man’s fortune be good is the first of prizes: the second portion of 
happiness is to be well spoken of. If any man meet both these goods and 
have them for his possession, he hath the highest crown of life. 

The implication is that by winning his race—again with the 
four-horsed chariot—Hiero has shown his wealth and won good 
fortune; and that through the poetry of Pindar he wins the second 
portion, fame. As usual, the final reflection has a reference to the 
opening notes of the poem. The ‘praise’ won by Hiero at the 
end corresponds to the music of Apollo’s lyre, which is a delight 
to the gods and all their friends, and a source of terror to the 
enemies of the gods and of Hiero! The good fortune which on 
this occasion is celebrated by the lyre of Pindar, Apollo’s repre- 
sentative, includes not only the winning of a race at Pytho, but 
also the throne of Syracuse, the victory of Himera, the foundation 
of Aetna. Just as Bacchylides flatters Hiero by representing him 
as one of the rightful (Homeric) kings who derive their power 
from Zeus, so Pindar is praising Hiero as king, not tyrant, when 
he talks of the good old Dorian institutions of Aetna, and of the 
respect paid by the despot to ‘the people.’ The highest compli- 
ment of all is implied by the statement that the enemies of Zeus, 
particularly Typhon, the giant who is crushed beneath the weight 
of Aetna’s mountain, are put to confusion by the music of Apollo. 
The subtle flatterer suggests that Hiero, who is now the theme 


1 The element in which are born those laws of purity of which our chorus sings at 
line 867. 


SOPHROSVNE Ixxi 


of Apollo’s music, is among men as Zeus among the gods: the 
enemies of Hiero hate the sound of his praise, and will be duly 
crushed as are the enemies of Zeus. 

When the praise has reached its height, we duly hear of 
human limitations. Excess in praise must be avoided. The poet’s 
boast of skill introduces the theme of ‘Modest Measure.’ God’s 
favour is the condition of success, for poet as for king. The poet 

-will not exaggerate his praise though he will surpass all rivals. 
So subtly are we led to the theme of Hiero’s Limitations. 
‘ Possessions...yes, a crown of wealth...but also troubles! Let us 
hope that, like Philoctetes of old, our hero will rise superior to all 
detraction, and, in spite of the limitations of human happiness, 
live on the whole in joy.’ ‘May the god raise up his fortunes, 
and give him a due measure of his desires?’ It is in harmony 
with this thought that the poet speaks of the due measure of 
praise, and of the envy which is brought by excess of praise. 
The moral is: ‘Be generous as you are: be not deceived by the 
cunning temptation of sordid gain.’ The reference which follows 
to Croesus and to Phalaris, though it certainly flatters Hiero, 
who is no tyrant, but the father of his people, no niggard, but a 
lavish spender, hints again at the theme of moderation in ambition 
and enjoyment. 

We, also, must avoid excess, and must not become entangled 
in an analysis, however fascinating, of the whole of Pindar’s work. 
We must return from our excursion into the realm of lyric, and 
consider again, in the light of all that we have seen, the final 
movement of our play. 

Listen once more to the prayer which Oedipus would have 
his children learn: 

Children, out of much 
I might have taught you, could you understand, 
Take this one counsel: be your prayer to live 


Where fortune’s modest measure is, a life 
That shall be better than your father’s was. 


Then hear how Creon, taking up the theme of moderation, breaks 
the silence: 


It is enough! Go in! Shed no more tears but go! 


1 Sv para xatpdv: not ‘opportunity’ but ‘the due measure.’ 


Ixxii INTRODUCTION 


OEDIPUS 
I would not, yet must yield. 
CREON 
Measure in all is best. 


The pathos of the immediate connection is, I hope, obvious. 
But for a Greek audience, and for us, if we have rightly under- 
stood the tragedy, there is a special appropriateness in this plea 
for measure in the expression of the hero’s grief. Sophrosyne 
requires, not only that a man be modest in good fortune, but also 
that he bear, with a courage which does not too much complain, 
the ills that are inevitable. At the outset Oedipus appealed for 
the courage of his people’. When he was filled with false sus- 
picions and false fears he lacked Sophrosyne*. In his first wild 
agony, which was ‘an anguish more than man could bear’, he fell 
into excess, inflicting on himself 


Fresh, not unpurposed evil....’Tis the woe 
That we ourselves have compassed hurts the most*. 


As reason came again he sought, at first, to justify the act. But 
for the chorus, as for the audience, it was a transgression of 
Sophrosyne. Now the first agony has given place to pity for his 
children and to modest self-reproach. The effect upon a Greek 
audience first of the prayer for modest means and then of the 
appeal for fortitude we also shall understand if we will turn to 
the Oedipus at Colonus, and listen to the words of the king who 
once gave courage to suppliants. He is now himself a suppliant*: 


My child, Antigone—I am old and blind— 

What country’s this? Who are its citizens? 

Tell me! For this day’s need with some poor gift 
Who shall receive the vagrant Oedipus, 

One that asks little, and must ever have 


1 See line 11 note. 2 See lines 914 ff.: notice dyav. 

3 Line 1293. 4 Lines 1230f. 

5 O.C.1 ff. Here réxvor recalls the first words of the O. 7. and rivas heightens the 
effect of the reminiscence and contrast. The & réxvov of line g has an effect like the 
repeated réxva of O.7. 6. tov rdavArny Oldtarovr recalls 6 waot KNewds Oldlaous, and 
orépyew recalls oréptavres. Similarly O.C. 12-13 recall O.7. 216 ff., and depend for 
their pathos on the memory of the king who wished to be master in all things. The 
grammatically irregular rv@oluea of O.C. 11 (Brunck rv@dépeGa) is possibly to be de- 
fended as a reminiscence of 0.7.71. In the later play, though Oedipus has no hesi- 
tation in asserting that the involuntary evils were remov0éra waddov 7 dedpaxébra (267), 


he recognises that his passion ran to excess in the sequel (438). This fact has a bearing 
on our discussion in chapter 11. 


SOPHROSVNE lxxiii 


Less than that little—yet is satisfied: 
Because long time’s companionship and grief, 
And his own honour, teach him fortitude? 


At the words wavta yap xaip@ cada there is a moment’s 
silence. Then Oedipus speaks again: 


Know you the pledge I crave? 
CREON 
Speak it, and I shall know. 


OEDIPUS 
This: that you banish me! 


CREON 
That is the god’s to give. 


OEDIPUS 
The gods reject me! 
CREON 


Then, perchance, you shall have banishment. 
OEDIPUS 
You promise? 
CREON 
Knowing not, ’tis not my wont to speak. 

The refusal of Creon to promise that the king shall have his 
wish and be sent into banishment has been strangely regarded 
as a sign of harshness. The best answer to that misunderstanding 
will be found in the words of Oedipus at line 1444, when the boon 
of exile is for the first time asked and, on the same ground as 
here, refused. 


What? Will you ask for one so lost as 1? 


CREON 
Surely...and you will now believe the god?. 


In these lines in which for the second time the request is 
made, and for the second time the decision is left for the god, 
two motifs, of great importance in the earlier scenes, are lightly 
recalled and linked with the final doctrine of Sophrosyne. Oedipus 
had been wise and confident in the wisdom which has proved to 


1 The implied rebuke is gentle : the tone of Oedipus expresses only his sense of the 
magnanimity of Creon. Instead of trying to interpret Creon’s prudence as a fore- 
shadowing of the cold cynicism which belongs to the Creon of the Oedipus Coloneus, 
we shall do well to notice how in the later play the moféf of line 1444 is recalled. See 
0.C. 299f. Notice in that context that O.C. 308 recalls the entry of Creon at O. 7. 80, 
and the words of Oedipus at 1478. Theseus, not Creon, in the later play is the repre- 
sentative of the modest mean, a ruler who ‘knows that he is but man’ 567: that fact, 
and the other reminiscences, make O.C. 575 significant. 


Ixxiv INTRODUCTION 


be but folly. Now, in a matter where it seems as if no doubt can 
remain, the cautious Creon, remembering how ignorant is man, 
insists that the god alone can pronounce the verdict. Although 
that verdict seems to be implied by the terms of the earlier oracle, 
until the obvious interpretation of that oracle is confirmed by the 
god himself, Creon will not utter any word even of a conditional 
promise. Weare thus reminded, first of the great contrast between 
human ignorance and the divine foreknowledge, then of the human 
need for modest measure in speech. Those are the main themes 
of the scene with Teiresias', which began with the words: 


Ah me! It is but sorrow to be wise 
Where wisdom profits not, 


and in which Teiresias gave the warning: 


’Tis that I see thy own word quit the path 
Of safety, and I would not follow thee. 


We remember also how the chorus sang: 


The only Wise, Zeus and Apollo, know 
Truth and the way of man, 


and how Oedipus cried, when first the truth began to appear: 


I fear myself, dear wife: I fear that I 
Have said too much. 


It is, then, the Sophrosyne which recognises the limitation of 
human knowledge, and the modesty in speech which comes from 
that Sophrosyne, that give value to lines 1517-1520. Ocedipus, 
who set himself above the wisdom of the prophet, must learn the 
highest wisdom—the recognition of his own ignorance. Oedipus 
whose words have so often missed ‘the xazpos’ must learn ‘to be 
silent where he does not know.’ The theme is a commonplace: 
the tragic beauty of the application is new. If you think my 
interpretation over-subtle, look first at the opening words of the 
Septem contra Thebas: 


He who controls the act 
Must speak well-measured words?: 


1 Lines 316 ppovelv, 324 obdé col 7d cdv puvnu’ lov rpds Kaupdv, 499, 767. 
2 Aesch. Sept. 1; see above, p. xix. This phrase is recalled with a characteristic 


application by Euripides Phoen.871, where Mr Pearson’s note recognises the fact that 
xaipés is not temporal. 


SOPHROSYNE lxxv 


then turn, if you will, to the Oedzpus Coloneus, and notice how 
this motzf, like the rest, is recalled in the first scene: 
The man is present: speak whate’er the time 
And the due measure bid you!, 
and judge with what effect this maxim was hurled back upon the 
changed and hypocritical Creon of that play?. 

In the Oedipus Tyrannus Creon stands for pious moderation. 
His insistence that the hero should observe due measure even 
in the expression of his grief is a fitting close to the scene which 
opened with a storm of violence and shame and self-mutilation : 
and it may help us to appreciate the purpose of the poet’s dis- 
tinction between the inevitable tragedy and the self-inflicted 
wrong. 

Due measure, Creon implies, is best in all things. Therefore, 
being man, admit your ignorance; and, where you are most 
certain, doubt. The gods alone are wise. 

That is the fitting close to the debate of riddles, oracles and 
prophecies: and it may help us to appreciate the purpose of the 
conflict of Teiresias and Oedipus. 

Due measure is best in all things. Therefore set a watch 
upon your speech. Speak not upon conjecture, but with proof. 
Reason and yield to reason—not.to anger. Boast not. Remember, 
being mortal, that you know not what the issue of your words 
may be. 

That is the fitting close to a drama which, above all Greek 
dramas, is charged with tragic irony. It may help us to appreciate 
the contrast between the sober colouring of the dialogue and the 
elaboration of the odes in which the oracles of Phoebus are so 
swift and terrible. 

Oedipus is ready to go. But his tragedy is not yet fully ac- 
complished. He must relinquish his children. Gently, though 
with a certain sternness, Creon bids him let them go. With 
a flash of his old imperiousness, Oedipus protests. Again there 
comes the reminder of due measure: 

OEDIPUS 
Then take me...take me hence! 
CREON 
So....Quit your children....Come! 
Oot. 40 te 2 0.C. 808 f. 


Ixxvi INTRODUCTION 


OEDIPUS 
I will not let them go! 


CREON 
Seek not the Mastery 
In all. Too brief, alas! have proved your masteries. 

That also is a fitting close to a theme which has been promi- 
nent in the play. After the scene with Teiresias, in which the 
wise man showed his folly, there came another scene in which 
the king forgot the limitation of his rightful power. That scene 
has been said to flag. It did not flag for a Greek who knew the 
value of his freedom and could recognise in tyranny a mortal sin 
against the state. When Oedipus passed from false suspicion to 
contempt of argument, spurning the true friend who would remind 
him of the ‘gain that is really gain, when he forgot that royalty 
is government for the good of all the state, and claimed at length 
to be sole Master of his Thebes—well, he forgot ‘due measure.’ 
The ‘ gain that is really gain’ is called Sophrosyne. 

Once more the close may help us to appreciate the play. The 
mastery of Zeus alone is everlasting. The scene with Creon and 
the ‘tyrant chorus,’ on which we have already spent so many 
words, are relevant and even necessary. As is the wisdom of the 
gods to man’s highest flight of wit, so is the eternal sway of Zeus 
to man’s most stubborn mastery. Not only must the wisdom of 
Teiresias be set against the folly of the famous answerer of 
riddles, but also the modest loyalty of Creon must be contrasted 
with the arrogance of him who was himself, let us not forget, the 
loyal servant and the saviour of the state. 

One last word remains. As we listen to the final exhortation: 


Look, ye who dwell in Thebes. This man was Oedipus, 
That mighty king, who knew the riddle’s mystery, 


we are, I hope, too deeply moved to notice that the poet has now 
joined together the theme of wisdom and the theme of power. 
But without the artistry that has made this connection the poet 
could not have so strangely moved us. The third line adds a 
theme, perhaps the most universal of the motifs that Sophrosyne 
suggests, the theme of Luck. A prudent and a pious man is 
modest and remembers his mortality when Fortune seems most 
kind. Above all men Oedipus seemed Lucky. As Teiresias 
hinted, the chance which seemed to bring him every human good 


SOPHROSYNE lxxvii 


was fatal ‘in the end. Now, when we hear how he was one 

Whom all the city envied, Fortune’s favourite! 
and how his present ruin should teach us to remember our 
mortality, we shall understand at length the full significance of 
the pious words with which the priest of Zeus addressed the 
wielder of an earthly sceptre: 

We count you not a god, I and these children, 

That thus we seek your hearth. Of human kind 

We count you first in the common accident 

Of fate ; in the traffic of the gods with man 

Greatest of men. 
The temptation of the lucky man is to forget in his prosperity 
that fortune ever changes. The temptation of the man whom all 
men honour is to think himself more than human, to count him- 
self the equal of the gods. 

Jocasta trusted to her luck. She prayed, and when, as it 
appeared, a happy answer came to her request, forgot to thank 
the gods. Instead she thought the lucky chance disproved their 
oracles. And so she said to Oedipus: 

Why, what should a man fear? Luck governs all! 

There’s no foreknowledge and no providence! 

Take life at random. 
She forgot that if Luck governs, caution bids us never trust her 
favours. Immediately—not because she had so spoken, but with 
a tragedy more wonderful because of her great confidence—Jocasta 
learnt the truth. 

Presently Oedipus proclaims himself the son of Luck. He 
calls the months his kinsmen, because they also are the children 
of changing Luck. He who was once a foundling is now a mighty 
king. As the months wax to greatness, so has he grown to 
eminence. His Mother Luck has given him good gifts. So he is 
confident. He has forgotten that moons must wane; that the gifts 
of Luck, lavished in one brief moment, in a brief moment also 
are taken away. Therefore with confidence he cried: 

Break what break will! My will shall be to see 
My origin, however mean! 

The chorus also have forgotten. They hail the omen of the 

moon. To-morrow, as they say, will see the moon at the full. To- 
1 J venture to give a version which is not quite literal, in order to call attention to 
the effect, which is clear in Greek. 


Ixxvili INTRODUCTION 


morrow Oedipus shall be hailed as greater than the first of men. 
He shall be known as son of Pan or Dionysus or Apollo. 
Then comes the revelation : 
So from these twain hath evil broken : so 
Are wife and husband mingled in one woe. 


Justly their ancient happiness was known 

For happiness indeed ; and lo! to-day— 

Tears and Disasters, Death and Shame, and all 
The Ills the world hath names for—all are here. 


That tragic series, also, finds its just and beautiful conclusion 
in our final harmony. Pindar, who has already taught us so much, 
will illustrate once more the close relation of the doctrine of the 
mean to the reminder that a man must not be counted equal with 
the gods. ‘Oh Saviour Zeus,’ he cries, ‘I come to thee as a sup- 
pliant, and pray thee to adorn this city with the glory of manly 
prowess: aye, and I pray also that my patron, to-day’s Olympian 
victor, may continue on his way, delighting still in the horses 
that Poseidon loves, and may so win an old age of cheerfulness 
even to the end, with sons to stand at his side and support his 
age. For if a man’s prosperity flourish in wholesome manner, if 
in his possession he have a sufficiency and add thereto good 
fame—let him not seek to be a god*.’ You will find the same 
themes developed in the earliest of Pindar’s extant odes?, where 
the text is one that we shall not now, I hope, fail to understand: 
‘If Lacedaemon is happy, Thessaly is blest. What bids me thus 
transgress the measure in my praise?’ When you turn to the 
sixth Vemean, with its magnificent comparison of the changes of 
human fortune to the rise and fall of cities and to the changing 
seasons of our mother Earth, you will better understand how 
a Greek audience felt when Oedipus proclaimed his kinship with 
the waxing months: and when you turn to the fresh treatment of 
the same theme in the eleventh Vemean, you will realise that all 
this is only another way of expressing the final moral of our play. 

The last words bid us apply to our own hearts the lesson of 


1 Pindar Ol. v 20 ff. This is exactly of xacpés, det (fv: the prayer is the same: and 
the spirit of Sophrosyne which prompts it is expressed by the proverbial : ‘Seek not to 
be a god.’ Remember how the Athenian of Solon’s apologue was happy to the end, 
because his city prospered and his sons’ sons grew up beautiful and good and he was 
well off ‘according to Athenian standards.’ 

2 Pythian x. 


SOPHROSYVNE lxxix 


Sophrosyne. We are not asked to think: ‘How satisfactory, how 
salutary, that sin is always justly punished!’ Nor are we left to 
useless railing at a world in which such wanton havoc may over- 
take men’s lives. Sophrosyne will not save us from calamity. 
Yet, if calamity comes, we may remember to bear it well and » 
bravely, not adding to inevitable ill ‘fresh, not unpurposed evils.’ 
Sophrosyne will not enable us to answer all the riddles of our 
life, though it will certainly not absolve us from the need and 
obligation of the search. But it may help us to remember that 
wisdom was not born, and will not die with us: it may save us 
from that strange conceit of knowledge which is the greatest error 
of the men the world calls wise. Finally, Sophrosyne will not 
ensure success in business, politics or art: nor will it exempt us 
from the service of the state. It will remind us that, whether we 
are in authority or under authority, we are only part of a life that 
was, before we were born, and will be, when we are forgotten. It 
will keep us mindful of the uncertainty of riches, and of the truth 
that a modest competence is often better than great wealth. It 
will not deny the value of good fame and knowledge, wealth and 
influence : that also would be a transgression of the mean. But 
it may remind us to prize most the ‘ gains that are really gains,’ 
the cheerfulness and loyal friendship which are more pleasant 
and more easily won than luxury or power. 

For, in spite of all, there remains in Oedipus the nobility of 
the human spirit. It is not without a quickened sense of human 
values that we hear the words: 

Behold, in the event, the storm of his calamities. 
And, being mortal, think on that last day of death, 


Which all must see: and speak of no man’s happiness 
Till without sorrow he hath passed the goal of life. 





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dyopatot Oaxet, mpds Te lakdados Sumdots 
vaots, ér “lopnvod te pavteia o7000. 

TOMS yap, oTEP KaUTOS eloopas, ayav 
non caheder Kavakovdioa Kapa 
Bu av €r’ ody ota re howviov aadov, 
pbivovea pev kddvEw éykdprois xPoveds, 
p0ivovea & ayédais Bovvdpors TéKouwt TE 


Io 


15 


20 


25 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOZS 


OEDIPUS. 


My children, sons of Cadmus and his care, 
Why thus, in suppliant session, with the boughs 
Enwreathed for prayer, throng you about my feet, 
While Thebes is filled with incense, filled with hymns 
To the Healer, Phoebus, and with lamentation ?— 
Whereof I would not hear the tale, my children, 
From other lips than yours. Look! I am here, 
I, whom men call ‘the All-Famous Oedipus!’ 

Tell me, old priest, you who by age are fit 
To speak for these, in what mood stand ye here— 
Of panic—or good courage? Speak! For I, 
You know, would give all aid. Hard were my heart, 
Pitying not such a petitioning. 


A PRIEST. 


King, Master of my country, Oedipus, 
You see us, in our several ages, ranged 
About your altars. Some are not yet fledged 
For long flight, others old and bowed with years, 
Priests—I of Zeus—and, yonder, of our youth 
A chosen band. Thebes, garlanded for prayer, 
Sits in the markets, at the shrines of Pallas, 
And by Ismenus’ oracle of fire. 

With your own eyes you see, the storm is grown 
Too strong, and Thebes can no more lift her head 
Out of the waves, clear from the surge of death. 
A blight is on her budding fruit, a blight 
On pastured cattle, and the barren pangs 


4 TOPOKAEOYS 


eee y lal > Ss € / 0, ‘ 
aydvous yuvarkav év 8 6 tupddpos Oeds 
oKnwbas ehavver, housos ExOroros, Tow, 
bd’ ob Kevodrar Spa Kadpmetov: pédas & 
9 a \ , , 
Aldys orevaypots Kat ydous movrtilerau. 
Deotan pév vuv ovk ivovpevdv o eye 
ovo olde matdes ELoper? edbéarior, 
> “A 4 “~ ¥ Lal , 
avdpav Sé mpatov év Te cvuopats Biov 
kpivovtes év Te Sarpdvev cvvahhayats: 
ds y é&€\voas, dotu Kadpetov pohav, 
ok\npas aodod Sacpov Sv tapetyopuev* 
Kai Tad? wd judy ovdev e€evdas 7réov 
ovd éxdidayOeis, ddAA tporOyKy Bod 
héyer vopiler O jyiv dp0dca Biov: 
viv T, @ Kpdtictov Tacw Oidizou Kdpa, 
7] 
ikeTevopev oe TaVTES OlOE TPOATPOTOL 
> 4 > e ~ € , ¥ Lal 
adkynv Tw’ evpe Hiv, etre Tov Oedv 
4 > tA Rs.) FD > ‘\ i) Ud 
dyunv akoveas eit am avdpds ota Od ov: 
@s TOLoOW Ewtretpoiot Kat Tas Evppopas 
locas 6p padiora trav Bovdevpdrov. 
ie > B Lal »” > > , i] aN 
tf, & Bporav apiot, dvdpOwaov mohw: 
UF, edraByOn: ws oe viv pev nde yH 
cwTnpa kyle. THs tapos tpoOupias: 
> A ‘ A a aA 
apxis 5€ THs os wndapnds pepvdpeba 
oravres T €s OpOov Kai readvtes tarEpor, 
GN ardadeia HVS’ avépOwoov modu. 
»” 0 ‘ ‘ ‘ ed > , 4 
opr yap Kai THY TOT’ aiviw Téynv 
, e€ A“ ‘ “A Lal 
TApETXES Huw, Kai Tavbv ios yevod. 
e ¥ »¥ “~ lal Lal 
ws elrep aples THOSE ys, woTEp Kpareis, 
‘ > al lal 
vv avdpdow xdd\uov 4 Kevfs Kpareiv: 
as ovdev eat ovTe Tipyos obTE vais 
¥ > lal ‘ 
Epnpos avdpav px Evvoixodtytav ow. 
- a > , 
Ol. @ maids oixrpoi, yrata Kodk dyvatd frou 
, ae , 
mpoonhOe® ipetpovres: ed yap ofS” drt 


3° 


35 


40 


45 


5° 


55 


OE. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 
Of women: and the fiery fever-god 


Hath struck his blow—Pestilence sweeps the city, 
Empties the house of Cadmus and makes rich 
With tears and wailings the black house of Death. 
We count you not a god, I and these children, 
That thus we seek your hearth. Of human kind 
We judge you first in the common accident 
Of fate ; in the traffic of the gods with man 
Greatest of men ;—who came to Cadmus’ town 
And loosed the knot and quit us of the toll 
To that grim singer paid. No hint from us, 
No schooling, your own wit, touched by some god, 
Men say and think, raised us and gave us life. 
So now, great Oedipus, mighty in the world, 
We stand and pray. If you have any knowledge 
From god or man, find help! The tried man’s thought, 
And his alone, springs to the live event! 
Oh, noblest among men, raise up our state! 
Oh, have a care! To-day for that past zeal 
Our country calls you Saviour. Shall your sway 
Be thus remembered—that you raised us high 
Only to fall? Notso! Lift up our state 
Securely, not to fall. With promise good 
You brought us Fortune. Be the same to-day! 
Would you be Prince, as you are Master, here ? 
Better to master men than empty walls. 
The desolate ship is nothing, ramparts nothing, 
Deserted, with no men to people them. 
Alas, my sons! I know with what desire 
You seek me. Well I know the hurt whereby 


IE. 


Ol. 


IE. 


Ol. 


Ol. 


ZTOPOKAEOYS 


lal fa) € Ba 
VOOELTE TAVTES, KAL VOTOUITES, WS EyY@ 
Lal » “~ 
ovK oT bpav dois €€ Loov vooel. 
\ \ ‘ ¢. A IX: : Pei Ae Le. 
TO pev yap dav adyos els EV EpXETaL 
»¥ € \ ee} \ 
pdvov Kal” adrdv, Kovder’ dddov 4 O Euy 
Woy wodkw TE Kape Kal o Gwod oTEveEL. 
> , 
wor ovy vv p evdoovTd y' e€eyeipere, 
4 
GN’ tore modda pev pe Saxptaavra dy, 
, 
moddads 8 ddovs EOdvra hpovridos mhavors. 
qv & €d oKoTadv nUpioKoy tac povny, 
, ¥ to ‘ M , 
TavTynv empata: taida yap Mevoikéws 
lal \ * 
Kpéov7’, euavrod yap Bpdv, és ra TvOuxa 
éreua DoiBov Sépal’, as TvOoP 6 TH 
8 a * 4 “ 4 8 e 4 aN 
pav H Tt davav THVOE pucatunv Tohw. 
kai jpap non EvppeTpovpevov ypov@ 
humel ti Tpdaoe TOU yap ElKdTOS Epa 
ameot. Treiw TOD KaOyKOVTOS ypovov. 
otav 8 ikytat, THVUKAUT ey@ KaKds 
pn Spav av einv wav do’ av Sydot eds. 
> > > N , > Y 29> , 
GAN’ eis KaOV OUT Eliras Olde T apTiws 
Kpéovra tpocoteixovta onpaivovot pot. 
> ¥ a hay 2 , , 
avat “AmoXov, ei yap év TUX YE TH 
coTnpr Bain \aprpos womep Oppare. 
2) STR SEAN , 1% , > \ x , 
GAN’ eikaoa méev, NOUS. ov yap av Kapa 
‘\ 5 ® , , 
tohvotepys oO elpTe TayKdprov Saprys. 
7 dee > , 4 \ e 4 
Tax’ eiodperOa, EdppeTpos yap ws Kvew. 
¥ FS 48 nA , 
ava€, euov kydevpa, mat Mevoikéws, 
‘Bt See 3 ‘ 4 la! “A 4 , 
Ti’ Hpiv HKELs TOV Geod dypyy pépar ; 


KPEQON. 
ec Oryv: héyw yap Kat ra Svadop’, ei TUXOL 
tr \ > , / > x > A 
Kat opOov éfovra, mdvr av evtvyeiv. 
» - 
€or d€ Toloy TovTos; ovTe yap Opacds 
3 2 8 7 ta A A , 
OUT OvY TpodEloas Eipl TO ye VU yo. 


60 


65 


7° 


75 


80 


85 


go 


PR. 


OE. 


PR. 


OE. 


OE. 


OIAITTOYS TYPANNOS 7 


You all are stricken—and not one of you 
So far from health as I, Your several griefs 
Are single and particular, but my soul 
Mourns for myself, for you, and for all Thebes. 
You rouse not one that sleeps. Through many tears 
And many searchings on the paths of thought, 
By anxious care, at last, one way of cure 
I found :—and put in action....I have sent 
Menoeceus’ son, Creon, my own wife’s brother, 
To ask of Phoebus, in his Pythian shrine, 
‘By deed or word how shall I rescue Thebes?’ 
And when I mark the distance and the time, 
It troubles me—what doth he? Very long— 
Beyond his time, he lingers.... When he comes, 
Then call me base if I put not in act 
What thing soever Phoebus showeth me. 
Good words and seasonable. In good time— 
Look! my companions tell me, Creon comes! 
O King Apollo, as his looks are glad 
So may he bring us glad and saving fortune. 
I think he bears us good. Else were his head 
Not thus enwreathed, thick with the clustered laurel. 
He is in earshot. We'll not think, but know! 
[He raises his voice as Creon approaches. 
Prince, and my kinsman, son of Menoeceus, speak ! 
What message bring you for us from the god? 


CREON. 


Good news! I count all news as fortunate, 
However hard; that issues forth in good. 
Tis a response that finds me undismayed, 
And yet-not overbold. What says the god? 


Ol. 


KP. 


Ol. 


KP. 


Ol. 


KP. 


Ol. 


KP. 


Ol. 


KP. 


Ol. 


KP. 


Ol. 


KP. 


Ol. 


KP. 


ZOPOKAEOYS 


ei ravde xpyeis mAnovaldvrwy Khvew, 
E€romos eimely, eire Kal oTEixeW Eow. 
és mavrTas avoa. Tavde yap Tméov hépw 
‘ / a ‘ “ Sy > a , 
70 TévOos } Kal THS Euns Wuy7s Tépt. 
, > 2 - » A Es 
héyouw’ Gv of jKovoa Tov Oeov rapa. 95 
” ec oA nr > A ¥ 
dvaryev nas PoiBos eudavas avak 
piacpa yopas, ws TeOpappeévov x Oovi 
> no 2), 4, s > a , 
€v THO, EXavvev, pHO avyKEaTOV TpEepev. 
toiw Kkabapno; tis 6 Tpdmos THs Evpdopas ; 
avdpnratodvras, 7) hovw ddovov mad, 100 
4 ¢ 49> e , ld 
Avovtas, ws TOO —alua—yewualov modu. 
Toiov yap avdpos THvde pnvier TUXNY; 
y 3 c 4 S Aad a e 4 
nV HELLY, avat, Adids ro? NYELOV 
A lal x A 4 - ae! 4 4 
yns THOSE, ply oe THVS amrevObvew TorAW. 
wy ae , > ‘ > ~ 4 , 
€€010 akovwv: ov yap eioeldov yé Tra. 105 
, a ~ > la al 
tovTou Oavdvros viv emiaTédrer Tapas 
TOVS AUTOEVTAS KELPL TYLWpELY TLVAS. 
e > > ‘\ a“ nw Lal soo € , 
ot 8 cial mov yas; Tod 76d edpeOnoerar 
ixvos trahaas Svoréxpaprov arias; 
> AQ »¥ “a ‘ A UA 
év 799 epacKe yn. TO dé Cytovpevov — I10 
¢€ , > 4 A > 4 
adwrov, exdhevyer S€ Tapehovpevov. 
/ > > ¥ a~ > > “~ c Pes 
TOTEpGA. & év otkous 1 Vv aypots o Aaios 
x» iad > > »¥ AY) 4 4 
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4 c 4 > “ 4 
Dewpds, ws Epacker, exdnuav, wahw 
‘ > > 4yp > c > , 
Tpos oikov ovKed’ ike ws amreorady. 115 
oO ¥ Xr 7 +>) A , c 8 Lal 
oud ayyehds Tis OVdE OUpTpaKTwP 6d0v 
eae 9 > ‘ > d > » 
KatTelo, Grou Tis expabav éypnoat av; 
4 , A Ka a af A 
Pape xoves yap, mAnv els Tus, 65 POBw hvyav 
A > > 
av elde mriv ev ovdev ely’ cidas dpdoa. 
TO Totov ; €v yap TOAN av eevpou paler, 120 
> ‘ lal 
apxnv Bpaxetav ei Md Bower édzidos. 
~ ¥ ~ 
Anotas épacKe cuvtvydvtas ov pid 
es “ > ‘ A 4 Lal 
popy Ktavew viv, adda ovv AHO xepar. 


CR. 


OE. 


CR. 


OE. 
CR. 


OE. 
CR. 


OE. 
CR. 


OE. 


CR. 


OE. 


CR. 


OE. 


CR. 


OE. 


CR. 


OIAITOY=S TYPANNOS 9 


If you would hear now, with this company 
Here present, I will speak—or go within ? 
Speak it to all, since it is their distress 

I care for—aye, more than for my own life. 
So be it. As I heard from the god, I speak. 

Phoebus the King enjoins with clear command :— 

A fell pollution, fed on Theban soil, 

Ye shall drive out, nor feed it past all cure. 
How drive it out? In what way came misfortune? 
There must be banishment, or blood for blood 
Be paid. ’Tis murder brings the tempest on us. 
Blood—for what blood? Whose fate revealeth he? 
My Lord, in former days, our land was ruled— 
Before you governed us—by Laius. 

I know—men tell me so—I never saw him. 

He fell. His murderers, whoe’er they be, 

Apollo chargeth us to strike with vengeance. 

The task is hard. How can we hope to track 

A crime so ancient? Where can they be found ? 

Here, said the god, in Thebes. To seek is oft 

To find—neglected, all escapes the light. 

Was it in Thebes, or on the countryside 

Of Thebes, the King was murdered, or abroad ? 

Abroad, on sacred mission, as he said, 

He started—then, as he went, returned no more. 

Came none with news? Came none who journeyed with him 
Back, to report, that you might learn and act? 

All slain....One panic-stricken fugitive 

Told nought that he saw—knew nought—-save one thing only. 
What thing? One clue, disclosing many more, 

The first small promise grasped, may teach us all. 

Robbers, he told us, met the King and slew him— 

Not just one man, but a great company. 


10 


Ol. 


KP. 


Ol. 


KP. 


Ol. 


IE. 


OTp. a’, 


2 


8 OnBas; éxrérapa, poBepav dpéva Seiwari wdddov, 


4 


ZOPOKAEOYS 


lal ¥ ‘ ‘ > , 
TOs obv 6 AnoTHs, Et TL MH ELV apyvpy 
2h ¥ 
erpaaaer ev0evd, és 76d Gv Torys €By ; 
Soxodvta tavT Hv: Aatov 5 é\wddros 
ovdels dpwyds ev Kaxols eylyveTo. 
ral 4 
Kakov S€ Totov éumodev, Tupavvidos 
ovrw mexovons, eipye TOUT eFedévar; 
) TouKA@odos SplyE 7d Tpds Too! oKoTeElW 
lal lal 4 
peeras nas Tapavyn mpoonyero. 
GN é& brapyns ads avr eyo pave. 
A ‘ 
ératiws yap PotBos, afiws dé ov 
mpo Tod Oavevtos THVS EDeol eriatpodyv: 
7 23 / »” > ‘\ , 
wor evdtkws oerbe Kape TVppaxor, 
Lal La “~ “ ww y 
Yn THSE TyLwpovvta TO Oe@ O apa. 
ec A ‘ > \ nw > 4 7 
brép yap ovxt TOV arwrépw pirov 
> > : fee c Le) ms 2... > da , 
GAN avTds AVTOD TOUT aToTKEOW pvTOS* 
GoTLs yap nV ekelvov 6 KTavav Tax” GY 
A a 9 4 ‘ “ ld 
Kap &v ToLadTy xELpt TYnw@pety Oédor- 
KElV@ TPOTAPKOV OUV ELAaVTOV OPEAO. 
iA’ ¢ /, to 3 ”~ A B 10 
GAN’ as TdxLoTA, Taides, Duets ev Bapawv 
Y , >» : e A , 
totaal, rovcd apavtes ixtnpas KAddovs, 
adXos b€ Kdduov Nady bd abpoiléro, 
ws Tav E“ov Opdcovtos: 7} yap evTuyets 
‘ led 0 “~ , g aN / 
avy T@ Oem havovpel’, 7) weTTaKOTES. 
s a A 
@ watdes, iordperOa. rtavde yap yapw 
\ Lal 
kal Sevp’ €Bnuev av 0d eEayyédderau. 
“A > 
DotBos 8 6 réupas tdode pavteias dua 
9 
cotnp O ixowro Kai vdcov taveTyptos. 


XOPOS. 
IIvO@avos ayhaas €Bas 


> 
inue Addue Tlaucv, 


5 € al 
@ Avds adveres hari, tis ToTE Tas TOAVYpVGoU 


125 


130 


135 


140 


145 


150 


OE. 


CR. 


OF. 


CR. 


OE. 


PR. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS II 


What brought the robber...what, unless ’twas pay,... 
Something contrived from Thebes !...to such a deed ? 
Some thoughts of that there were. Yet, in our troubles, 
For Laius dead no man arose with aid. 
Some thoughts! For a King dead! A pressing trouble, 
To put you off with less than certainty ! 
It was the Sphinx—whose riddling song constrained us 
To leave the unknown unknown, and face the present. 
Then I'll go back and fetch all to the light ! 
*Tis very just in Phoebus—and in you 
*Tis a just zeal for the cause of that slain man. 
And right it is in me that ye shall see me 
Fighting that cause for Phoebus and for Thebes. 
Not for some distant unknown friend,—myself, 
For my own sake, I’ll drive this evil out, 
Since he that slew this King were fain perchance 
Again, by the like hand, to strike...at me! 
So, fighting for your king, I serve myself. 
Come then, my children, lift your prayerful boughs, 
And leave the altar-steps. Up! No delay! 
Go, someone, gather Cadmus’ people here ! 
I will do all. Then as the god gives aid, 
We'll find Good Luck...or else calamity ! 
Up, children, let us go! The King’s own word, 
You hear it, grants the boon for which we came. 
Now Phoebus come, who sent the oracle, 
Himself to stay the plague and save us all. 


CHORUS. 
Glad Message of the voice of Zeus, 


From golden Pytho travelling to splendid Thebes, what burden 


bringest thou ? 
Eager, am I, afraid, heart-shaken with fear of thee— 


(Healer, Apollo of Delos, God of the Cry, give ear !) 


12 ZTOPOKAEOYS 


5 dpdt cot alopevos Ti por 7) véov 155 
6 H mepireddopevars wpars Taw eLavicrers XpEos. 


7 elmé jor, @ xpuaéas Téxvov "Eidos, duBpote Papa. 


dvr. al. mparda oe KeKdopevos, Ovyarep Ards, duBpor ‘APava, 
2 yaidoxyov T adehpeay 160 
3 "Apreuiv, & kuxhdevt’ dyopas Opdvov Evchea Oaocet, 
4 kai PotBov ExaBoror, ia 
5 Tpiocol adeEipopor mpopavynré jor, 
6 €l TOTE Kal TpoTépas aTas UirEep Gpvupevas TOAEL _—*165 


‘ ~ 
7 Hviaat éxtoriav pidoya myparos, €EhOere Kai vuv. 


orp. B. @ To7r01, avapiOua yap. pépw 
2 anata’ vooet S€ ou mpomas GTOAOS, OVO Evi PpovTidos 
eyxos 
8 @ Tis ddeerar. ovTE yap exyova 171 
4 K\uTas xOovds avEerau, OUTE TOKOLOLY 
5 iniwy Kapdtev avéyovot yuvaiKes: 174 
6 dAdov 8 ay dhd\w tpocidois dep evmTEpov Gpyw 
7 KPElLO GOV ayaaKéTou TUpds OppLEvov 


> \ AQ e 4, Lal 
8 axTav Tpos éorépov Heod: 


dvr. B. av modus avapiOwos ddAvTau: 
2vyréa S€ yéveP\a mpds 7édw Oavaraddpa Ketrar 
avoiKTws* 
8 & 8 ddoyou Todal 7 émt parépes 
4 axTav mapa Bapiov addobev addat 182 


al 4 ¢ ~ 
5 kuyp@v Tover ikrhpes emirtevadxovow. 185 


OIAINOY2 TYPANNOZ 13 


Shaken with reverent fear. Is it some new task to be set? 
Or is it some ancient debt thou wilt sweep in the fulness of time 
to the payment ? 
Tell me thy secret, Oracle deathless, Daughter of golden Hope! 


First call we on the child of Zeus, 
Deathless Athene; then on her that guards our land, her Sister, 
Artemis, 
Lady of Good Report, whose throne is our market place; 
Aye, and Apollo! I cry thee, Shooter of Arrows, hear ! 
Three that are strong to deliver, appear! Great Fighters of 
Death, 
Now, if in ancient times, when calamity threatened, as champions 
came ye 
Sweeping afar the flame of affliction,—strike, as of old, to-day! 


II 


Alas! Alas! Beyond, all reckoning 
My myriad sorrows! 
All my people sick to death, yet in my mind 
No shaft of wit, no weapon to fight the death. 
The fruits of the mighty mother Earth increase not. 
Women from their tempest of cries and travail-pangs 
Struggle in vain...no birth-joy followeth. 
As a bird on the wing, to the west, to the coast of the sun- 
set god 
Look! ’tis the soul of the dead that flies to the dark, nay, 
soul upon soul, 
Rushing, rushing, swifter and stronger in flight than the race of 
implacable fire, 


Myriads, alas, beyond all reckoning,— 
A city dying! 

None has pity. On the ground they lie, unwept, 
Spreading contagious death; and among them wives 
That wail, but not for them, aye, and gray mothers 
Flocking the altar with cries, now here, now there, 
Shrilling their scream of prayer...for their own lives. 


14 


ZOPOKAEOYS 
6 mardy S€ Adprer oTOVdETad TE yHpuS Opavdos: 
7 av UTEp, ® xpvcéa Ovyatep Avds, 


lal > , 
8 evatra Tépipov aXKav* 


i , na » > , 
orp. y. “Aped Te Tov padepov, Os vu axadkos aomidev 


2 dréyer pe mepiBdartos avridlov, IgI 
8 takioovtov Spaynpa votioa: matpas 

¥ ¥ 3 3 4 
4 €7OUpoOV ELT €S MEyaV 
5 Oddapov *Audirpiras 195 
6 eit’ és Tov admdkevov Gpmov 
7 @pykiov Kr\vdova: 
8 Tehel yap et TL VVE Ady, 

A192: 32's oP ¥ 

9 TOUT é7 Huap EpxeTau: 
10 Tév, @ <Tav> TUpddpawr 200 
ll doTpamav Kparn vepwr, 


12 @ Zev watep, b7d o@ POicov Kepauva. 


yi , , >» , ‘ , 2 39 9 an 
dvr. y. AvKev ava, Td Te 0d XYpvcooTpddwr amr ayKu\av 


2 Bédea O€dow’ Gv dddpar’ évdareio bar 205 
> \ 4 ta 4 

8 dpwya mpoortabeévra, tas Te Tuphdpous 

4 “Aptéutdos atyhas, &dv ais 

5 AvKu dpea Sidooen: 

6 TOV Xpvoopmitpay TE KiKARTKO, 
“ ee , ~ 

7 Taco ETM@VUKLOV Yas, 210 
7: A , é ¥ 

8 owwwra Bakxyov enor, 

9 Mawddwv éudcrodov 

10 rehac Ojvat préyovr’ 

ll dya@m. < ovppayov > 


, a, ‘ on 
12 TevKa Tl TOV amotimov ev Deoits Oedv. 215 


OIAITOY= TYPANNOS 15 


And a shout goeth up to the Healer; and, cleaving the air 
like fire, 


Flashes the Paean, above those voices that wail in their 
piping tune. 
Rescue! Rescue! Golden One! Send us the light of thy 
rescuing, Daughter of Zeus! 


IIl 


Turn to flight that savage War-God, warring not with shield and 
spear, 
But with fire he burneth when his battlecry is loud, 
Turn him back and drive him with a rushing into flight, 
Far away, to exile, far, far away from Thebes, 
To the great sea-palace of Amphitrite, 
Perchance to the waves of the Thracian sea and his own 
barbaric shores. 
He spareth us not. Is there ought that the night has left ? 
Lo! Day cometh up to destroy. 
King and Lord, O Zeus, of the lightning fires, 
Father of all! Thine is the Might. Take up the bolt and 
slay! 


Phoebus, King Lycean, I would see thee string thy golden bow, 
Raining on the monster for our succour and defence 
Shafts unconquered. I would see the flashing of the fires 
From the torch of Artemis, that blazeth on the hills 
When she scours her mountains of Lycia. 
And another I call, the Golden-Crowned, and his name is a 
name of Thebes ; 
He is ruddy with wine, and his cry is the triumph cry, 
And his train are the Maenades ;— 
Come, great Bacchus, come! With a splendour of light, 
Blazing for us, strike at the god cursed among gods, and save! 


16 ZOPOKAEOY2 


a a ¥ 
Ol. aireis: aS airets, ray’ éav OédAys ErN 
4 | a / 2 iJ n 
Kriwv déxerOar TH viow OF vanperey, 
addknv hd Bows av Kavaxovgiow Kakov* 
aya E€vos pev TOD hdyou Tovd’ eLepa, 
a x 
&évos 5é Tov mpaxOévtos: ov yap av paxpay 220 
»¥ > N > ” . , 
iyvevov avrds, p17) ovK Exwv TL TVpBodov. 
vov 8, voTEpos yap aarods eis aaTOdS TEO, 
€..A lal a“ / 4 
bpiv tpopwvd Tract Kadpetous rdde*>— 
datis 708 tpav Adiov rov AaBddKov 
td > ‘ > , , 
Kadroudev avdpos ek Tivos SiddeTOo, 225 
TOUTOV Kehevw TAaVTA Onpaivery enot* 
Kel pev hoBetrar TovTikhynp vre€ehety 
oA > c a , ‘ ¥ . 
avtos kal?’ avrov—reicerar yap ado pev 
> A > / Lal > »¥ > , 
dorepyes ovder, yns 8 drevow aBraBys* 
ei S av ris addov older H €€ GANS Bovis 230 
TOV avToxELpa, WH TLwTdTw: TO yap 
Képdos TEAO "y@ 7) Xd pis TpocKeioerau. 
ei 8 ad cwwryjoeo Oe, Kai tis } dirov 
Seioas amrdae: TovTOS } XavTOU 7d8e, 
a nw “ Lal 
ax Tavde Spdow, Tadra yp7) KAvew epod. © 235 
» 5 nw al nw 
Tov avdp amavee TovTov, Satis éoTi, yns 
“ 8° -. > A fe ‘\ 4 4, 
TH79, Ns €y® Kparyn Te kal Opdvous vena, 
4 > A 
pyr éodéxer Oar pre tpoocdwvey twa, 
> nw lal 
pyr év Oeav ebyaion pyre Ojpaow 
A a 
Kowov Troveto Oar, pyre xépviBos véwew: 240 
~ > 
abe S dz’ oikwr ravras, ds prdoparos 
vo ¢ ‘ »¥ c ‘ ‘ “ 
TOVO Nut OvTos, ws TO IIvOiKov Beov 
“A > ld > , > , 
pavtetov éépnvev dptiws époi. 
PERS \ > , a 
ey@ pev ovv Todade TO Te Saipovt 
“A 9 ud ‘ “A , , 
TQ T avdpt To OavdvTr cbppayos 7édw* 245 
A ‘ y deed. 
kaTevxopar d€ Tov Sedpakdr’, etre Tis 
e x , ¥ , 
els wv hen ber etre Thevdvev pera, 
\ “A ¥ ~ 
KaKOV KaKws Viv apopov éxtpiac Biov. 


OIAITOY2 TYPANNOS 


OE. You pray! And for your prayer...release, perchance, 


And succour you shall find ; if you will aid 
My nursing of this malady, and attend, 
Obedient, to the words which I shall speak 
Touching a story strange to me. I stand 
A stranger to the fact, could not have proved it, 
A foreigner, with no hint to guide me to it, 
Yet now, a Theban among Thebans, speak 
To you, to Thebes, my solemn proclamation. 
Is there among you one who knows what hand 
Did murder Laius, son of Labdacus ? 
That man I charge unfold the truth to me. 
Say that he fear by utterance to bring 
Himself in accusation...why, his payment 
Shall not be harsh ; he shall depart unharmed. 
Doth any know another, citizen 
Or stranger, guilty? Hide it not. Reward 
I’ll pay, and Thebes shall add her gratitude. 
What! You are silent still? If any fear 
For a friend or for himself, and will not speak, 
Then I must play my part. Attend what follows. 
This man, whoe’er he be, from all the land 
Whose government and sway is mine, I make 
An outlaw. None shall speak to him, no roof 
Shall shelter. In your sacrifice and prayer 
Give him no place, nor in drink-offerings, 
But drive him out of doors...for it is he 
Pollutes us, as the oracle Pythian 
Of Phoebus hath to-day revealed to me. 
Thus I take up my fight for the dead man’s cause 
And for the god, adding this malediction 
Upon the secret criminal—came the blow 
By one man’s hand, or aid of many hands— 
As was the deed, so be his life, accurst ! 


io 


17 


18 


XO 


Ol. 


ZOPO KAEOYS 


> 4 > ¥ > , 
érevxomat &, oikorow ei Evvértios 
év Tots epots yevour’ Euod avverddros, 
Cal “ / 
mabe arep Toicd apriws npacrapnr. 
bpiy S€ radra avr’ émuoKymT@ Tehew 
iép 7 euavtov Tov Oeov re THISE TE 
A ss snare 30 , 2 rf) s 
ys 8 axdpras Kabéws épOapperys. 
29> > ‘ - X A ns s 
ovd el yap Hv Td Tpayya pn Oeyxdaror, 
axdbaprov bpas eiKds Hv ovTws ear, 
avdpos y’ apiarov Bacihéws 7 dhwdédros, 
> >) -9 “A A > > ‘\ A J} ‘ 
Gd’ e€epevvav’ viv 8, érel Kup@ 7 eyo 
Eywv pev apyas as exetivos elye Tpiv, 
exov 5€ héxtpa Kal yuvaty’ d6udo07opor, 
Kowav Te Taldwy Kol” av, el Kelv@ yévos 
. 2 4 ce eee > , 
pn Svotixynoer, Hv av éexrepuKdta— 
a hee . / ee ee 4 Pp 2 4 
vov & és 76 Keivou Kpar ena? 4 Tvx7... 
> a e 2. % a e \ > a , 
av? av éyo 748’, WOTEPEL TOUMOV TaTpds, 
Ureppaxovpat, Kati mavT adiEowar 
lal ‘ > /, ”~ / A 
(ntav Tov adroyxeipa Tou ddovov haBetv 
T@ AaBdaxeiw radi Todvddpov te Kat 
Tov mpoabe Kdduov tod radar 7° ’Ayyvopos. 
‘\ Led lal 
kal Tava Tots pn Spoow evyopar Oeods 
¥ A a 
par apotov avrots yqs aviévar Twa. 
ve ae A A s \ A , 
PyT obv yuvakGv Tratdas, dh\A TO TOTBO 
al nw r Leal 
TO viv Pbepetc bat Kati TOvS ey Biove: 
byw S€ Tois adAdover Kadpeious, dcrous 
io ¥ ge , > 4 4 / 
Ta0 €oT apéokovl’, 7 Te TUupaxos Aiky 
€ 4 > a > \ s 
Xol mavres ev Evveter cioael Oeoi. 
9 nn 
womep p apatov ehaBes, ad, ava€, épa. 
ovr €xTavoy yap ovTe Tov KTavdvT’ Exw 
Seigar. 7d 5é Citnua Tod wéusavros Av 
/ 
oiBov 768’ ciretv, doris eipyaorat wore. 
> 
Sixar €deEas: GAN avayKkdoat Jeods 
a \ 
av pn Oédwow ovd’ dy efs Svvair’ aryp. 


250 


255 


260 


265 


270 


275 


280 


CH. 


OE. 


OIAINOYS TYPANNOZ - 


Further, if, with my knowledge, in my house 
He harbour at my hearth, on mine own head 
Fall every imprecation here pronounced. 

On you I lay my charge. Observe this ban 
For my sake and the god’s, and for your country 
Now sunk in ruin, desolate, god-forsaken. 
Why—such a business, even had the gods 
Not moved therein, ’twas ill to leave uncleansed. 
A noble gentleman, a King had perished... 
Matter enough for probing. Well, you failed. 
To-day, since I am King where he was King, 
The husband of his bride, from whose one womb, 
Had he been blest with progeny, had sprung 
Near pledges of our bond, his fruit and mine... 
Not so...fell Fortune leapt upon her prey, 

And slew him. Therefore I will fight for him 
As for my father ; face all issues ; try 

All means, to find the slayer, and avenge 
That child of Labdacus and Polydorus, 
Agenor’s offspring and great Cadmus’ son. 

If any shirk this task, I pray the gods 
Give to their land no increase, make their wives 
Barren, and with the like calamities, 

Nay, worse than ours to-day, so let them perish. 

On you, the rest of Thebes, who make my will 
Your own—may Righteousness, who fights for us, 
And all the gods wait on you still with good. 

O King, as bound beneath thy curse I speak. 
I neither slew, nor can I point to him 
That slew. The quest...Apollo, He that sent 
The oracle, should tell who is the man. 

’Twere just. Yet lives there any man so strong, 
Can force unwilling gods to do his will ? 


19 


20 


XO. 
Ol. 
XO. 


Ol. 


Ol. 


ZOPOKAEOY2 


7a Sevrep ex TaVD Gy héyoun’ apot Soxel. 
> \ f_ > ® , \ “ ‘ ‘ > , 
el kal Tpit éoti, wy Tapys TO pH OV dpdoat. 
dvaktT avaktt TavO dpavt eriotapar 
padiora DoiBw Teipeciav, rap ov Tis av 
a GS * > / , 
oKoTav Tad, ava€, expdlor cadéotara. 
> > > > > A yOe ~ 2 3 , 
GAN ovK ev apyots ovdE TOUT’ éerpakdpnv. 
¥ , , > 4 5 r = 
eTepapa yap, Kpéovtos elizrovtos, dumAous 
4 4 \ ‘\ ‘ ld 
Topmovs’ maha S€ wy Tapov Oavpdlerar. 
‘ \ a ee N ‘ nn» 
Kal pnv Ta y ada Kkwda Kat tadat ern. 
Ta Wola TAVTA; TAVTA yap oKoT® ddyov. 
Oaveiv €héxOn mpds Twwv ddourdpwr. 
¥ > 4 ‘ > > /, > > ‘ ec Lal 
HKovoa Kaya: Tov 8 iddv7’ oddeis dpa. 
> : ee ‘ ‘ la 4 > ¥ / 
GAN’ et Te ev 8x Seipatds y' exer pépos, 
TaS TAS akovw od pevEet Todd apas. 
e 9 A , a 
@ py ott Spavri tapBos, ovd’ eos hoBei. 
adn’ ovfehéySwv aitiv €orw: olde yap 
x 6 lal 4 , #Q> » 2 
Tov Detov non pavtw ad ayovow, @ 
Tahnbes eumrépuxer dvOpaTwv pove. 
CY a 
@ TavTa vowav Teipecia, Sudaxra Te 
¥ ee 9). OP ‘ ‘al 
appyTa T, ovpavd Te Kal yPovoori Bn, 
/, 4 > ‘\ Cal 
TOAW EV, El Kal wy Bdéreis, Ppovets 8 dpws 
id , . 
ola voow TUVETTLY* HS OE TPOGTATHY 
an , > ba A s 
cwTnpa Tt, wvak, pwodvov éfevpioKoper. 
lal , > ‘ - 
DotPos yap, ei Kal pi Kveus TOV ayyéhor, 
Téepparw nui avréreurer, Exvow 
tA a lal “~ aA 
povny av eOeiv rovde Tod voorparos, 
> ‘ , yee , > 
€l TOUS KTavovTas Adiov pabdvres €b 
, ry A 
KTEWWalmev, 1) yns puyddas exmeppaipeba. 
4 0 4 "wet? > > > n~ 4 
ov vv Ploryncas yr’ dm’ oiwvav darw 
| es ES > »*¥ ad Y ¢ , 
pyT el TW addAnv pavtiKns exes 6ddv, 
en nw 
pvoa ceavtov kai rod, pdoa 8 eué, 
en \ nr , A 
pou dé wav piacpa Tod TeOvnKdros. 
> ‘ ‘ > »¥ a 
ev gol yap exper: avdpa 8 adehe ad’ dv 


285 


290 


295 


300 


395 


310 


CH. 
OE. 
CH. 


OE. 


CH. 
OE. 
CH. 
OE. 
CH. 


OE. 
CH. 


OE. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 


I think, the second best...if I may speak... 
Aye, if you have a third best, speak it! speak it! 
The great Teiresias, more than other men, 
Sees as great Phoebus sees. From him, great King, 
The searcher of this case were best instructed. 
There I have not been slothful. I have sent— 
Creon advising—I have sent for him 
Twice...It is very strange...Is he not yet come? 
Well, well. The rest’s old vague unmeaning talk. 
What talk ? What talk? I must neglect no hint. 
He died, they said, at the hand of travellers. 
I heard it too. And he that saw...none sees him! 
Nay, if he have the touch of fear, he’ll not 
Abide thy dreadful curse. He needs must speak. 
Phrases to frighten him that dared the doing? 
Yet hath he his accuser. See! They bring 
The sacred prophet hither, in whose soul, 
As in no other mortal’s, liveth truth. 

Teiresias, thou that judgest all the signs 
That move in heaven and earth—the secret things, 
And all that men may learn—thine eyes are blind, 
Yet canst thou feel our city’s plight, whereof 
Thou art the champion, in whom alone, 
Prophet and Prince, we find our saving help! 
Phoebus hath sent—perchance my messengers 
Spoke not of it—this answer to our sending. 
One only way brings riddance of the plague :— 
To find, and kill or banish, them that killed 
King Laius. Come! Be lavish of thy skill. 
By hint of birds, by all thy mantic arts, 
Up! Save thyself and me, save Thebes, and heal 
All the pollution of that murdered King! 
See, we are in thy hands. ’Tis good to serve 


22 


Ol. 
TE. 


Ol. 


TE. 


Ol. 


TE. 


Ol. 


TE. 


Ol. 


TE. 
Ol. 
TE. 
Ol. 
TE. 


Ol. 


ZTOPOKAEOYS 


¢ / , 
éyou Te Kal Svvaito KaAOTOS TOVMY. 315 


TEIPESIA>. 


“ al A ‘ , 
hed hed, hpovetv ws Sewdv evOa pH TEAH 
an “~ lal ‘ 
hin ppovodyTi. TavTa yap Kadds eyo 
eidas Suddeo”* od yap av Sedp’ ikdunv. 
rt 8 éorwv; ws dOvpos cioedjdrvOas. 
des p’ és OlKoUS’ paoTa yap TO Tov TE OV 320 
> ‘ 8 / > 4 *# > \ Ai, 
Kaya Siolow Tovpor, Hv enol 7p. 
ovr evvop €lmas ovTEe Tporpiy Toe 
To, 0 pepe, tHVS aroctepav har. 
e Lal ‘ > A ‘ .Y . , 2 3a 
6pO yap ovd€ coi 76 cov Povnp tov 
x 4 ¢€ > 2» » ‘ i. , 
mpos Kaipov* ws obv pnd ey@ TadTov TA0w. 325 
py mpos Oeav hpovav y’ arootpadys, eet 
TAVTES OE TPOTKVVOUpEV O10 iKTYpLOL. 
4 ‘\ > aA 3 > & > > 4 
mavres yap ov ppoveir. eyo 5 od uy Tore 
¥y 3 e a ” \ ‘\ > 3 "¢ , 
Tap, WS Gv eiTH py TAO, EKPHVW Kaka. 
ti dys; Evvedas od Ppdorers, AAN’ Evvoeis 330 
nas mpodovvar Kai KataPUetpar Todw ; | 
> A Y 23, 5 ‘\ +” > > lal 4 nw > 
€y® ovr euavTov ovte © adyuva. Ti TavT 
¥ \ 7 > \ *K , , 
Gddws édéyyers; ov yap av mvGo.d pov. 
OUK, @ KAK@V KAKLOTE, Kal yap av mérpou 
piow ov y dpydveas, €€epets Tore, 335 
GAN’ GS areyKtos KatehedTnTOS Havel ; 
> ‘\ > (4 ‘ 3 , ‘\ \ ta 4 a“ 
dpynv epéeurpw THY eunv, THY onv Oo Gpov 
tA > “~ > | ae ‘\ l4 
vatovaay ov KaTeldes, GAN’ eve peéyeis. 
F: ‘ atk > xa > 4 > »¥ 
tis yap TovadT Gv ovk av dpyiloir en 
, a A A , s. - 3 , 4 
Kvov, & vv od THVS aTipalers TOdW ; 340 
9 an 
n&eu yap avra, Kav éy® ovyn oréyo. 
5 lal 4 3 hUY \ \ ‘\ 4 > , 
ovKkovy a y n&eu kal o€ xpr éyew epoi. 
> x 
ovK av Tépa ppacaimr. mpos Tad’, et OéXets, 
Oupov 8’ dpyjs Aris dypiwrdrn. 
‘ ‘\ A 
kal pnv tapyow y ovdev, as dpyjs exo, 345 


OE. 
TE. 


OE. 


TE. 


OE. 


TE. 


OE. 


TE. 


OE. 


TE. 
OE. 
TE. 
OE. 
TE. 


OE. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 


Thy fellows by all means, with all thou hast. 


TEIRESIAS. 


Ah me! It is but sorrow to be wise 
When wisdom profits not. All this I knew, 
Yet missed the meaning, Else I had not come. 
Why, what is this? How heavily thou comest! 
Dismiss me home. Be ruled by me. The load 
Will lighter press on thee, as mine on me. 
Dost thou refuse us? In thy words I find 
Small love for Thebes, thy nurse, and for her law. 
’Tis that I see thy own word quit the path 
Of safety, and I would not follow thee. 
Oh, if thy wisdom knows, turn not away ! 
We kneel to thee. All are thy suppliants. 
For none of you is wise, and none shall know 
From me this evil...call it mine, not thine! 
Thou knowest ? And thou wilt not tell? Thy mind 
Is set, to play us false, and ruin Thebes? 
I spare myself and thee. Why question me? 
*Tis useless, for I will not answer thee. 
Not answer me! So, scoundrel !...Thou wouldst heat 
A stone.... Thou wilt not? Can we wring from thee 
Nothing but stubborn hopeless heartlessness ? 
My stubborn heart thou chidest, and the wrath 
To which thy own is mated, canst not see. 
Have I no cause for anger? Who unmoved 
Could brook the slight such answers put on Thebes? 
Though I hide all in silence, all must come. 
Why, if all must, more cause to tell me all. 
I speak no more. So, if it pleasure thee, 
Rage on in the full fury of thy wrath! 

Aye, so I will—speak out my wrath, and spare 


23 


24 


TE. 


Ol. 


TE. 
Ol. 
TE. 
OI. 
TE. 
Ol. 
TE. 
Ol. 
TE. 
Ol. 
TE. 


Ol. 
TE. 
Ol. 
TE. 
Ol. 


TE. 


Ol. 


ZOPOKAEOYS 


darep Evvinw’. iol yap Soxdv enor | 
a a ¥ > , a a 4 
Kat Evudutevoas Tovpyov, eipyacbar 0, ooov 
‘ ‘ ¢ > Pe | ew 4 X 4 
py xepot Kaivwv: ei & éerdyxaves Brérwr, 
lal wn > Z 
Kal Tovpyov av gov Todr env eivar povov. 
Gdnbes; evvérw c€ TO Knpvypate 
e ay > , O09 2 ~  S 
OTEp Mpoeitras éupeve, Kah NwEepas 
la lal “ > 
Ths vov mpooavoav pyre Tovase HT epé, 
@S VTL YHS THAD avooig pidoropt. 
V4 > “ > / 4 
ovtas dvadas é€exivnoas Td5€ 
7d phpa; Kal rod TodTo PevEeoOar Soxeis; 
/ > \ ‘ > lal / 
mépevya: talnbés yap ioxvov tpépa. 
mpos Tov didaxGeis; od yap Ex ye THS TEXVNS. 
Tpos Tov’ ov yap pm akovTa mpovTpeyw héeyew. 
motov héyov; ey’ adOis, as waddov pada. 
> ‘ A im: a» > “~ id 
ovyxi Evvnkas mpdabev; 7H “KTEipa éywr; 
> y et hae , $545. , 
ovy wote y’ eimety yrwotdv: GAN’ adlis dpdcor. 
govéa o€ dnt Tavdpds ov Cyreis Kupew. 
> > ¥ , , ‘ > “ 
GAN’ ov TL xaipwr Sis ye mnpovas pets. 
¥ al ¥ te dat I | 7 , 
elmw Tu Onta Kad’, WW’ dpyiln whéor ; 
9 
Ogov ye xpyleus* ws parny eipyoeran. 
ednPevar oe dyul adv rots hidrtarois 
¥ fi ra > a > 1o € of vs & yy 
ataxicP outrtovvt, odd Gpav WwW et KaKoD. 
e6 ‘ ‘ AF 95 , a 
H Kai yeynOas tavr dei héEew Soxeis; 
¥ ¢ ee \ ial > / ud 
elmep Ti 'y €oTi THs adyOeias oOevos. 
> lal 
GAN €or, TANY Goi’ Goi S€ TouT ovK é€oT, Emel 
‘ | Meee. Taps g 4 a @ ut > > 
tuphos Ta T WTA TOV TE VOUV TAT OmpaT el. 
‘ ¥ an 
av 8 adbduds ye tavr dvedilav, a col 
TD) Xa pee A [ee 2 a , 
ovdeis Os ovxt THO’ dvevduel TAXA. 
pias tTpéper mpos vuKTds, MOTE MAT Eye 
yo > 9 lal ~ 
pnt addov, datis das dpa, Brdipat ToT av. 
> , Lal nw nw 
ov yap Ge poipa pds y’ e“ov mecetv, Emel 
4 lal 
lixkavos “Amo\wv, @ Tad éxrpatar pede. 


K / a “A ‘al > la 
PeovToOs 7) Tou TavTa Tafevprh para ; 


35° 


355 


360 


365 


37° 


375 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOZ 


No jot of all I see. Listen! I see 
In thee the plotter of the deed, in thee, 
Save for the blow, the doer. Hadst thou eyes, 
Then had I said—the killing too was thine. 
TE. So! Is it so?—I bid thee, by the words 
Of thy decree abiding, from this day 
That lights thee now, speak not to these or me: 
Since thou art foul, and thou pollutest Thebes. 
OE. So bold, so shameless? Can you dare to launch 
Such impudent malice, and still look for safety ? 
TE. Safe am I now. The truth in me is strong. 


OE. The truth? Who taught it you? ’Twas not your art. 


Te. Thyself. I would not speak. Thou madest me. 

OE. Once more. What was it? I must have it plain? 

TE. Spoke I not plainly? Art thou tempting me? 

OE. I am not sure I took it. Speak again. 

TE. Thou seekest, and thou art, the murderer! 

Ok. A second time that slander! You shall rue it. 

TE. Shall I add more to make thee rage the more ? 

OE. Add all you will. Say on. ’Tis wasted breath. 

TE. I tell thee, with thy dearest, knowing nought, 
Thou liv’st in shame, seeing not thine own ill. 

OE. You talk and talk and fear no punishment? 

TE. Aye, none, if there be any strength in truth. 

OE. ’Tis strong enough for all, but not for thee. 
Blind eyes, blind ears, blind heart, thou hast it not. 

TE. And ¢hou hast...misery, this to mock in me 
Which soon shall make all present mock at thee. 

OE. Night, endless night is on thee. How canst thou 
Hurt me or any man that sees the light ? 

TE. Thou art not doomed to fall by me. Apollo, 
Who worketh out this end, sufficeth thee— 

Or. —Creon !—Was this invention his, or thine ?— 


25 


26 ZOPOKAEOYS 


TE. Kpéwv Sé cou why oddév, aX’ avros od Gol. 
OI. @ mdovre Kal Tupavvi Kai Téxvyn TEXVNS 380 
breppépovea 7H Tohulyjhw Big, 
boos Tap vpilv 6 dOdvos prrdocera, 
el THOSE Y Apyns ovvey’, HY Euol modus 
Swpynrdv, ovK airntov, eioexetpicrer, 
Tavtns Kpéwy 6 muards, ov apyys piros, 385 
AdOpa pw’ brehOav éxBadetv iwetperat, 
dels payor Tovdvde wnxavoppador, 
Sdduov aydprnv, dotis ev Tois Képdeow 
povov Sédopke, tTHv téexvynv S edu tuddds. 
érel, hép, eimé, TOV oD partis El Caps; 39° 
Tas ovx, OF H parbwdds evOad Hv Kvor, 


4 
- 


¥ fn 3. > “A > , 
nvdas Tt Toted aorotow éxhuTypvov ; 
Kaito. 76 y altvvyp ovyt Tovmudvros AV 
avdpos Sieuetv, GANA pavreias eden’ 
a oe We. Pa Cs A \ > , ¥ 
NY OUT aT olwvav ov Tpovdarvys Exov 395 
e D>. 2 “ i aa > thet GS , 
our €x Yedv Tov yvwrdv' adN éyw podar, 
c A > ‘ sq 7 ¥ la 
6 pndev cides Oidimous, exavod ww, 
yoann Kupyoas ovd am oiwvav pabdv’ 
dv 87 od Teipas exBadeiv, Soxav Opdvors 
TapactaTyaew Tos Kpeovreious wéAas. 400 
ld a \ ‘ e ‘ / 
khalwv Soxeis or kal od yo ouvbeis rade 
> la 3 > \ \ 997 , 
aynharnoew’ et Sé 7 “SdKes yépwv 
> ‘ ¥ » , ed al 
evar, TaBav eyvas av old rep dpovets. 
e “ \ > 4 ‘ \ “Q> »¥ 
XO. np pev eixdlovor kai ta Tovd ery 
Opyn Aedrk€x Par kai ta 0, OiSirov, Soxel. 405 
8 A s > 4 > 7g ‘ a“ A 
€l 0 OV ToLOUTwWY, aA OTWS Ta TOV FEeov 
- 7 lal 
PavTel apiora hicopmer, TOdE OKOTELD. 
‘ nn lal 
TE. €¢ kat tupavveis, é&towréov TO your 
7 £9 > / “A ‘ > ‘ ”~ 
to avtihéfar rovde yap Kayo Kparo. 
> , ‘ la n 
ov yap Tt ol La Soddos, dAAd Aogia’ 410 
9 > > , 
wot ov Kpéovtos mpoorarov yeyparpopat. 


OIAITOYZ TYPANNOS 27 


TE. Nor is thy ruin Creon. ’Tis thyself! 
OE. O Wealth, O Kingship and thou, gift of Wit 
That conquers in life’s rivalry of skill, 
What hate, what envy come with you! For this, 
The government, put in my hand by Thebes, 
A gift I asked not,—can it be for this ; 
Creon, the true, Creon, so long my friend, 
Can plot my overthrow, can creep and scheme 
And set on me this tricking fraud, this quack, 
This crafty magic-monger—quick to spy 
I]l-gotten gain, but blind in prophecy. 
Aye...Where have you shown skill? Come, tell me. Where? 
When that fell bitch was here with riddling hymn 
Why were you silent? Not one word or hint 
To save this people? Why? That puzzle cried 
For mantic skill, not common human wit; 
And skill, as all men saw, you had it not ; 
No birds, no god informed you. I, the fool, 
Ignorant Oedipus,—no birds to teach me— 
Must come, and hit the truth, and stop the song ;— 
The man whom you would banish—in the thought 
To make yourself a place—by Creon’s throne! 
You and your plotter will not find, I think, 
Blood-hunting pays! You have the look of age: 
Else, your own pain should teach you what you are! 
Cu. We think the prophet’s word came but from wrath, 
And, as we think, O King, from wrath thine own. 
We need not this. Our need is thought, how best 
Resolve the god’s decree, how best fulfil it. 
TE. Though thou be master, thou must brook one right’s 
Equality—reply ! Speech yet is mine, 
Since I am not thy slave, nor Creon’s man 
And client, but the slave of Loxias. 


28 


Ol. 


TE. 
OI. 


TE. 


Ol. 
TE. 
OI. 
TE. 
OI. 
TE. 
OI. 
TE. 


ZOPOKAEOYS 


héyw &, érevd7) kai rupddv p’ dveidioras* 
7 > “ 
ov Kai SéSopxas Kou Bréreis W’ ef Kaxod, 
3sQ> ¥ 4 3703 :=«CF > “~ 4 
ovo evOa vaieis, od OTwY olKEls pera... 
2 
ap’ cic? dd’ av €;...kat éAnOas exOpos av 
lal al a“ 24% ~ ¥ 
Tos cotow avrov véple Katt ys avo, 

, | Maer J ‘ 4 ‘ ~ “a 4 
Kal o apdimdrn€ pyntpds TE Kal TOU ov TaTpoS 
> a“ Ca | “~ ~ / > , 
ea mor ex yas THade Sewdrrous apa, 

> a ote (ia ene ey \ , 
Brérovra viv péev op0’, érevta dé oKdTov. 

Bons S€ ris ons Totos ovK earar uysHy, 

ey ‘ 2 4 , 
motos Kifatpav ovyi otvupwvos Taxa, 

9 # ‘ e 7 a 4 
orav KataicOy Tov bpevarov, dv Sdpous 
avoppov eioérhevoras, evTotas TUX a ; 
GdX\wv S€ tAHOos ovK erarc Adve. Kakdv, 
ao e€iceoe Gol TE Kal TOLS Dols TEKVOLS. 
mpos TavTa Kal Kpéovra kai Tovpov aroma 

mpomnraKile: cov yap ovK eat Bpotav 
KaKLOV OOTLS ExTpLBHOETAal ToOTE. 
> a mara? \ ‘ , , 
 Tadta Ont avexTa mpos TovTOU KhveEW ; 

3 > ¥ 241% ~ > , 
ovK els OheOpov; ovxt Bacoov; ov mad 
»” ¥ A ee \ ¥ 
aaboppos otkwv Tavd arootpadels amet; 

0. € 4 ¥ . > ‘ Ry -2 P 
ovd iKkdpnv eywy av, ei ov pr "KadeLs. 

> 4 s > a 4 > > ‘ 
ov yap Tio” 7dn papa dwovyicovt’, eel 

a ier ¥ 

oXoAn o av olKoUS TOUS Ewods EoTELAdpnv. 
e Lal Qo ¥ e \ ‘ “ 
HpEls TOLoLd Ehuper, ws pev col Soxet, 

an A > 7, >» ¥ 
P@pot, yovevar 8, ot o epucav, eudpoves. 

4 “ ¢ , Leh 4 ~ 
moiotot; petvov. Tis dé pw exper Bpotav; 
97Q> ¢ lal 
78 jHpépa pice ve kat Siadbbeped. 

e 4 > ¥ > \ b ~ , 
@S TAVT ayav aivikta Kacadhy héyets. | 
¥ ‘ a 
OUKOUV OV TAaUT apioTos evpioKew Eedus ; 
So IE is 0 Bs Og ¢ s , 
TowavT oveldul ols Eu evpHoes péyav. 
9 4 > 
auTn ye pevToL o H TUXN Siddrecrer. 
> > 
GAN’ ei woh tHVS e&€owa’, ov pou pédeL. 
» , A ; 
aTEyL TOLVUY* Kal ov, Tat, KopLlé pe. 


415 


420 


425 


430 


435 


440 


OIAITNOY= TYPANNOS 


I speak then. Thou hast taunted me for blind, 
Thou, who hast eyes and dost not see the ill 
Thou standest in, the ill that shares thy house,— 
Dost know whose child thou art 2—nor see that hate 
Is thine from thy own kin, here and below. 
Twin-scourged, a mother’s Fury and thy father’s, 
Swift, fatal, dogging thee, shall drive thee forth, 
Till thou, that seest so true, see only night, 


_ And cry with cries that every place shall harbour, 


OE. 


TE. 
OF. 


TE. 


OE. 
TE. 
OE. 
TE. 
OE. 
TE. 
OE. 
Bon 


And all Cithaeron ring them back to thee, 

When thou shalt know thy Marriage...and the end 
Of that blithe bridal-voyage, whose port is death! 
Full many other evils that thou know’st not 

Shall pull thee down from pride and level thee 
With thy own brood, aye, with the thing thou art! 
So then, rail on at Creon: if thou wilt, 
Rail on at me who speak: yet know that thou 
Must perish, and no man so terribly. 
Can this be borne? This, and from such as he? 
Go, and destruction take thee! Hence! Away! 


29 


uick !... Leave my house...begone the way thou camest. 
y g' 


That way I had not come hadst thou not called me. 
I little thought to hear such folly ; else 

I had made little haste to summon thee. 

Such as thou say’st I am; for thee a fool, 

But for thy parents that begat thee, wise. 

My parents! Stay! Who is my father ?...Speak! 
This day shall give thee birth and shall destroy thee. 
Riddles again! All subtle and all vague! 

Thou can’st read riddles as none other can. 

Aye, taunt me there! There thou shalt find me great 
*Tis just that Luck of thine hath ruined thee. 

What matter? I saved Thebes, and I care nothing. 
Then I will go. Come, lad, conduct me hence. 


30 


ZTOPOKAEOYS 


OI. Kkopilerw 570° as wapadv ov y éutrodav 


TE. 


ozp.a. XO. tis ovr’ a Oeomérea Aeddis cide wérpa 
¥ > 
2appyT appytwv te€cavta powiaor yepotv ; 


2 a > , , 
dxAets, ovbels 7 av odK Gv ahyvvots Téor. 
> ‘ ¥ > @ Y > AXO > \ ‘ 
cir@v amen, wv ovvek GOov, ov TO Gov 


, s ; Ke cn y 2 2) A 
Scioas Tpdcwrov’ ov yap eof drov pw dhets. 
héyw Sé cou" Tov avdpa TovTor, bv mdhat 


(nreis area Kavaxnpvaocwv pdvov 
tov Aatewov, odrds €otw evbdde, 
&évos \éyw péro.kos, eita 8 eyyevys 

vos hoy jt vy 

ld “~ 2Q> « 4 

havnoerar @nBatos, odd’ nrOyjoeras 
7 €vpdopa’ tuddds yap éx Sedopxdros 

» ‘\ > \ 4 4 ¥ 
kal mrwyxos avTt mrovatov E€vyv Ere 
OKYATT PH TPOELKYUS ‘yalay ewmropevoreTau. 
gavyoerar S€ marci Tots avTov Evvav 
adedpos avTds Kai matyp, KaE Hs Ehu 
yuvarkos vids Kal TOCLS, KaL TOU TaTpoS 
Opoomopes TE Kai hoveds. Kal TavT’ ia 
elow oyilov: Kav haByns ebevopevor, 

, ys an \ a 
packew eu’ 4dn pavTicn pndev dpoveiv. 


S"wpa vw aehdadwv 


4 
5 
6 
7 
8 
9 


, 
a. 


3 
4 


~ 
0 


UrmTrwv oBevapaéTepov 
“a 4 ~ 
gvyd 76da vopar. 
Y¥ ‘\ > > > & > 7 
evotthos yap €m avTov erevO pdaker 
‘ \ A 
Tupt Kal oTEpomrais Oo Avds yevéras: 
Sewai S ay’ erovras 


Kypes avamhaxyror. 


d n \ € > 9 , 
OlTa yap UT aypiay 
9 b) re > »¥ +7 
vray ava T avTpa Kat 
TETPALOS O Tadpos, 


¥ \ la) 
ehapipe yap Tov vuddertos aptiws davetoa 
/ fa) 
2 dda Iapvacod, tov ddydov dvdpa dvr’ ixvevew. 


445 


450° 


455 


460 


465 


470 


475 


OE. 


TE. 


CH. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS ft BE 


Aye. Bid him take thee hence. Here thou dost clog 
And hinder—once well sped, wilt harm no more! 

I go, yet speak my message, fearing not 
Thee and thy frown. No way canst thou destroy me. 
Wherefore I tell thee... He whom thou this while 
Hast sought with threatenings and with publishings 
Of Laius’ murder—that same man is here, 
Now called a stranger in our midst, but soon 
He shall be known, a Theban born, yet find 
Small pleasure in it. Blind, that once had sight, 
A beggar, once so rich, in a foreign land 
A wanderer, with a staff groping his way, 
He shall be known—the brother of the sons 
He fathered ; to the woman out of whom 
He sprang, both son and husband ;—and the sire 
Whose bed he fouled, he murdered! Get thee in, 
And think, and think. Then, if thou find’st I lie, 
Then say I have no wit for prophecy ! 


Who is the man of wrong, seen by the Delphian Crag 
oracular ? 
Seen and guilty—blood on his hand—from a sin unspeak- 
able ! 


Now shall he fly! 
Swifter, stronger than horses of storm, 
Fly! It is time! 


Armed with the fire and the lightning, the Child of Zeus leapeth 


upon him: 
After the god swarm the dreadful Fates unerring. 


Swift as a flame of light, leapeth a Voice, from the snows 
Parnassian, 
Voice of Phoebus, hunting the sinner that lurks invisible. 
; Lost in the wild, 
Rock and forest and cavernous haunt 
Rangeth the bull, 


32 


ZTOPOKAEOYS 


6 pédeos ped€w Todt ynpEvor, 

7 Ta pecophara yas arovordilwr 480 
8 pavteia’ Ta 8 aet 

9 COvra mEepuToTara.. 


‘ , . > 4 
orp. B. Seuvd pev ovr, Sewa rapdaooe coos oiwvob€ras, 483 


2 ove SoKovvT ovr amopaaKovl™ 6 Tt héEw  arropa. 485 
4 2 8 f Se ae FQ? € lal ¥y¥ > 9 , 

8 méropar © édriow, ovr €vOad’ 6pav ovT bmicw. 

47i yap 7 AaBdaxidats [ovTe Tavoy Tw 
a nw , a 4 > ¥ 4 ud > ¥ > 

5} T@ TlodvBov vetkos exert’, ovtTe tapoilev mor eywy 

6 €ualov, mpos dtov 67 < Bacavilwv > Bardve 

7 émt Trav éridapov ddtw ely’ Oidirdda, AaBdaxidars 495 

8 émixoupos adyhov Oavarav. 


[ Bporay 


.B. GX 6 pev ovv Zeds 6 7 *Amdd\d\wv Evverol Kal Ta 


2 elddtes: avdpav 8 ort pavtis mhéov 7} "ya H€petat, 500 
, > ¥ > (gor / 2K ld / 
8 Kpiots ovK €oTiv adnOys* copia S av codiav 
4 Tapapeliperey avip. 
> > » 2» >» Wa 2° Sey , 

5 GAN ovo eywy av, mpiv Sow’ dpOdv eros, wempopevor 

av katadainv. 
x \ a2 c Pai) 4 > > 4 

6 havepa yap ér aite mrepdeco’ HrAOe Kopa 

7 more, Kal coos afOn Bacdvy 0 advmo\us* TO am’ euas 
4 »¥ 2. 9 4 , 

8 dpevos ovToT odAnoe Kakiar. 512 


»” Lal 
KP. avdpes wodtrau, Setv’ ern remvapévos 


KaTnyopEew pov Tov TUpavvov Oidizour 
4 > 3 a > ‘ > a al 
Tape atrdynTov. el yap ev Tats Evudopats 515 
a la) , fal / 
Talis vuv voile: Tpds y’ Enov TemovOévar 
ld 
Adyourw ett’ epyourw eis BAaBnv dépor, 
¥ , a 
ovrot Biov pou TOU paxpaiwvos 7560s, 
/ "4 lal 
deporte THvd— Bakw. ov yap eis darhovv 
€ / aA 
7 Cypia pou Tov Aéyou TovTou Hépet, 520 
iAN’ > - > \ \ > la 
AAA €S MEYLOTOV, EL KAKOS MeV Ev TOXEL, 
\ ‘ lal 
kakos 6€ Tp0s Gov Kal dilwv Kex\yjoopat. 


OIAITOY2 TYPANNOS 33 


Lost and alone—to escape from the words that fly, swift from 
Apollo’s 
Oracle shrine :—stinging words that swarm and die not. 


The prophet wise, reader of bird and sign, 
Terribly moveth me. 
Icannot deny. I cannot approve. I knewnot what to say. 
I brood and waver. I know not the truth of the day or the 
morrow. 


I know not any quarrel that the Labdacids have, or have ever 
had, with the son of Polybus, 
Nor proof to make me stand against the praise men give to 
Oedipus, 
Though I fight for the Labdacids, to avenge the King’s 
strange death. 


The only Wise, Zeus and Apollo, know 
Truth and the way of man. 
They know! Can a prophet know? Can a man know 
more than common men? 
No proof is found. Yet a man may be wiser, I know, than 
his fellow. 
Until the charge be proven good, let the world cry ‘Guilty,’ 
never will I consent with it. 
We saw the maid of fatal wing: we know the helper. Wise 
and true 
To the city of Thebes, he came. I will never call him false. 


Cr. Good, citizens, news of a monstrous charge 
Spoken by Oedipus the King against me 
Brings me indignant here. Can he believe 
That I am guilty in this perilous time 
Of act or word conducing to his hurt? 

I care no more for life, with such a tale 
Abroad—no vexing trifle, but a charge 

Of great concern and import—to be called 

By you, my country, and my friends, a traitor! 


Ss. 3 


34 
XO. 


KP. 


XO. 
KP. 


XO. 


Ol. 


KP. 


Ol. 


KP. 


OI. 


KP. 


Ol. 


KP, 


Ol. 


ZOPOKAEOY= 


GAN’ HrOe pev 8x TovTO TOUVELOOS Tay’ Gv 
dpyn Buacbev paddov } yvoun ppevav. 

¥ Tae i BA 2 eee PRT) , 9 
tovmos 8 éedavOn tats euats yvopais ore 
mrevoOels 6 pavris TOUS Adyous Wevdets héyor ; 
nvoato pev Tad, 16a 8 ov yrdmn Tin. 
€€ éupdrov & dpbav te Ka€ dpOjs hpevds 
KaTHYOpEtTO TOUTIiKAHaA TOUTS Mov ; 

> 3D. a ‘ la > € lal > c lal 
ovK 010 a yap Spao" ot KparovrTes ovy 6p. 
avros 8 08 non Swpdrwrv ew mepa. 

@ 4 lal a > > > , > ¥ 
obros av, Tas Sedp’ nOes ; 7 Toadvd’ Exets 
TOAMNS TPSTwTOV BOTE TAS Euas oTéyas 
4 ‘ a A > X > lal 
ixov, poveds ay TODSE TAaVOpds Eudavas 

fal “~ 4 
Anorhs T evapyns THS Euns Tupavvidos; 

fo aes hele, \ A , a , 
gép eimé mpos Dear, Serdiav 7) pwpiav 
> 4 > »¥ Cort er 4 Lal 
idév tw é&v pou Tadr EBovrevaw Toeww ; 

7) TOUpyov ws ov yvwpLotpi wou TddE 

/ 7 a > > 4 4 
dd\@ TpocépTov 7) ovK adreLoipnv pabav; 
dp’ ovxt papdov eat. Tovyyetpnud cov, 

» , A , , 
avev Te TAHOovs Kai hitwv Tupavvida 
Onpav, 6 rrHOer xpHjpaciv P adioketa; 
cic? ws ténoov; avti Tav eipnuévov 
lo avTaKovo ov, KaTa Kpiv’ avTos pabav. 
héyew ov Sewvds, pavOdvew 8 éyo Kaxds 

lal - 8 lal ‘ \ 4 > A a. / 
gov’ dvopery yap Kat Bapvv o° nupyK’ epot. 
TOUT avTO Viv ov TPAT akovcov ws €pa. 

A> te. , A a dale: > > 7 
TOUT avTO py pot Ppal’, Orws OvK EL KaKOS. 

»¥ A 
El TOL vopilers KTHMA THY avOadiav 

> 4 lal an lal n 
ElWWal TL TOU VOU Xwpls, ovK dpOAs dpoveis. 

¥ tal a 
€l TOL vopilers avdpa ovyyern KaKaS 

“A > e lal 
Spav ovx udégew tHv Sixny, ovK ed dpoveis. 

4 ad A al 

Sippnpt oor tadr’ evdir’ cippobar. 7d Sé 
4 7% “A An 
TaOnw’ drroiov pis wabeiv SiSacké pre. 

7 x 

emeles, 7) ov ereibes, ws ypein p’ emt 


525 


53° 


535 


540 


545 


55° 


555 


CH. 


CR. 


CH. 


CR. 


CH. 


OE. 


CR. 


OE. 
42S 
OE. 
CR. 
OE. 
Cr. 


OE. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 35 


It was not reasoned judgment, but the stress, 

Perhaps, of anger, forced the bitter words. 

So, then, the words were uttered, that I plotted 

And won the seer to make his tale a lie ? 

*Twas spoken so. I know not with what thought. 

Was the mind steady, was the eye unchanged, 

When the King spoke against my loyalty ? 

I know not. What my masters do, I see not. 

Look! In good time, the King himself is come! 
Fellow, what brings you here? Are you so bold, 

Unblushingly to venture to the house 

Of him you would destroy, proved murderer, 

Brigand, and traitor, that would steal my throne? 
Tell me, come, tell me. When you plotted this, 

Seemed I a fool or coward? Did you think 

I should not see the crime so cunningly 

Preparing, or could see and not prevent? 

What! Without friends or money did you hunt 

A Kingdom? ’Twas a foolish enterprise. 

Kingdoms are caught by numbers and by gold! 

This right I bid thee do. As thou hast spoken, 

So hear me. Then, when thou hast knowledge, judge. 

Glib art thou...and I slow to learn—from thee, 

In whom I find so harsh an enemy. 

This one thing first, this one thing let me say— 

This one thing never—that thou art not false. 

Nay, if you think unreasoned stubbornness 

A thing to value, ’tis an evil thought. 

Nay, if you think to do your kinsman wrong 

And scape the penalty...’tis a mad thought. 

Aye, true, and justly spoken. But the hurt 

You think that I have done you, tell it me. 

Did you, or did you not, urge me ’twas best 


36 


KP. 
Ol. 
KP. 
OI. 
KP. 
OI. 
KP. 
Ol. 
KP. 
Ol. 
KP. 
Ol. 
KP. 
OI. 
KP. 
Ol. 


KP. 


Ol. 
KP. 
Ol, 

KP. 
Ol. 

KP, 
Ol. 
KP 


TOPOKAEOYS 


4 
Tov cepvopart avdpa TépbacOai Twa ; 
al ot 4 
Kal vov €0 awbrds eit T@ Bovdedpate. 
Lal fee , 
mrécov Tw’ Hon S70 6 Adios xpovov— 
al ‘ > an 
Sédpake Trotov Epyov; ov yap evvoe. 
/ , 
adavtos éppei—Oavacipo xeipopare; 
lal 4 
pakpot madavol 7 av perpnbetev xpovor. 
> oe 4 
TOT ovV 6 pavTLs OUTOS HY Ev TH TEXVN; 
, > ¢ / > ¥ 4 
codes y spoiws Ka€ toov TYys@pevos. 
lal “ / 
éuvyicat ody euod Te T@ TOT Ev XpOv@; 
ovKovv euov y éotaros ovdapov Tréhas. 
> > > ¥ lal , ¥ 
Gd’ odk Epevvav Tov Pavdvtos ExxerTE; 
mapécxonev, TAS 8 ovxi; KOvK HKovaaper. 
A ¥ 
Tas obv 760 obros 6 Todds OK NUOA TAOE; 
ovK 010° ed’ ols yap un PpovG ovyav Prdra. 
roadvec y ola Oa Kat déyous Gv eb hpovar. 
Lal 4OQ3 > ‘ > 4 > > > la 
motov 760 ; et yap oldd y’, ovK apyycopat. 
€ , 3 > ‘ \ Lal ‘ > ‘\ 
OOovver’, ci py Got EvvndOe, Tas euas 
ouk av mor ele Aalov SiadOopas. 
> A / 79> eS > : er A aA 
ei pev héyer 748’, adds oio H+ eya S€ aod 
lal lal ¥ 4 > “ ‘ A 
pabety Suxad tavl dmep Kapod od vor. 
expavOar’* od yap 51) hoveds addcopat. 
, A> > ‘ ‘ fo AX 4 + 
ri Snr’; adehpyy THY eunv yypas Exets ; 
Gpvnors ovK eveotiw av avigropels. 
apxeus 8 éxeivyn Tatra ys, ioov vépwv ; 
a > / , 99 cal ‘ 
av 7 Oéhovea wavT Euov Kopilerar. 
ovKouy ivodpar opov eyd Svoiv TpiTos; 
evtad0a yap 8) kal Kaxds daiver didos. 
ovr > 5 5 , 2 e ee a X , 
UK, El OLOOINS Y ws EyW TavT@ hdyor. 
oképar 5€ ToUTo TpaTov, et tw’ dv Soxels 
bd A 
apxew éhécbar Ely PdBouor paddov 7 
arpeotov evdort’, ci Ta y atl? efer Kparn. 
sine \ > ¥ > >. e¢ , ¥ 
€y® peév ovv OUT autos ipeipwr eur 
, > a al 
TUpavvos civar pahdov } TUpavva Spar, 


560 


565 


57° 


575 


585 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 


To call in his grand reverence, the prophet ? 
CR. Even as I first advised, so think I still. 
OE. How long ago, tell me, did Laius... 
Cr. What, that he did? I have not understood. 
OE. Pass, by that stroke that slew him, from men’s sight ? 
Cr. ’Tis a long count of many long-sped days, 
Or. This prophet—well! Was he in practice then ? 
Cr. Honoured as now, wise as he is to-day. 
OE. So? In those days spoke he at all of me? 
Cr. Never, when I was present, aught of thee. 
Ok. And did you make no question for the dead ? 
Cr. Question, be sure, we made—but had no answer. 
Ok. That day this wise man did not breathe it! Why? 
Cr. I know not. Where I am not wise, I speak not. 
OE. One thing you know.—Be wise, then, and confess it. 
Cr. What is it? If I know Ill not deny. 
Ok. Had not you been with him, he had not hinted 
My name, my compassing of Laius’ fall. 
Cr. Doth he so? You best know. Nay, let me ask, 
And do you answer, as I answered you. 
OE. Ask! You will never prove me murderer ! 
Cr. First, then :—is not your wedded wife my sister? 
OE. A truth allowed and not deniable! 
Cr. Joint partner of your honours and your lands? 
OE. Her every wish freely she has of me. 
Cr. Am not I third, in equal partnership ? 
Ok. Aye, and ’tis that proves thee a traitor friend. 
Cr. No! Reason with thyself, as reason I, 
And, first, consider—Who would be a King 
That lives with terrors, when he might sleep sound, 
Knowing no fear, and wield the self-same sway ? 
Not such an one as I. My nature craves 
To live a King’s life, not to be a King :-— 


38 


XO 


Ol. 


ZOPOKAEOY2 


ovr dddos GaTLs Twppovely eriaTaTat. 

“~ \ ‘\ > lal , > »¥ /, / 
viv perv yap ex cov mart’ avev poBov pepw, 
ei 8 avrds Hpxov, ToAAd Kav dxwv edpwvr. 

A a \ ‘ AOL ¥ 
Tas OAT enol Tupavvis Holwv Exe 
> “ > 4 ‘ / »¥ 
apyns advmov kai Suvactetas Ep ; 

OVTW TOTOUTOV HTATHMEVOS KUPO 
Gor adda xpilew } Ta odv Képder Kaha. 

lal n ~ “a ld 

viv mao xaipw, viv pe Tas aondlerat, 
viv ot ev xpylovres Exkahovot pe: 
7d yap TuxeW avrotor Trav evTavd En. 
mas Sar eye kev’ av hd Bouw’ adels rade; 
ouK av yevouTo vous KaKos Kalas hpovar. 

> > 73 3 ‘ loa Lal 4 ¥ 

GN’ ovT epactHs THOSE THS yuouns Epuv 

wert > ¥ § A a , , 
our dv per adddov Spavtos &v Thatnv Tore. 
Kal TaVd Edeyyov, TovTO péev TIvIGS’ iw 

4 ‘ s 3 > la x , ' 
mevlov Ta ypnoberT et cadas nyyerda oot 
a > ¥ > >7 ”~ ld / 
Tour add’, édv pe TO TepacKkdT@ Ad Bys 
Kowp Tt Bovdevoavra, uy mw amy KTavys 
undy, Surry Sé, TH 7 Eun Kal on, aBov. 
4 D> .- 9 4 v4 ‘ > lal 
yrapn 8 ddyhw py me xwpis airid. 
ov yap Sixavov ovTe ToOvS KaKOdS aTHV 


xXpnorovs vouilew ovTe TOUS xpNnaTovs KaKoUs. 


dirov yap éxOddv éxBadeiv toov héyw 
© ses > conan , a A an 
Kal Tov Tap avT@ Biorov, dv mretaTov didel. 
GW’ év xpdve yrbioe TAS’ dodpadds, émel 
xpdvos Sixaoyv avdpa Seixvvci pdvos, 
kakov S€ Kay év Hepa yvoins pd. 
A » an 
Kahas ehe€ev evhaBoupévw mec ev, 
»” ¥) lal 4 e “~ > > Lal 
avat* ppovetv yap ot Tayeis ovK adodadeis. 
9 , e , , 4, 
drav Taxus Tis ovMBovrevwv AdOpa 
Lal A Lal 
Xepy, Taxdy Set Kaye Bovrevew warw. 
> Ae 3 4 lal a 
ei 8 novydlwv tpoopeva, TA TODSE pev 
TeTpayphe eotat, Tapa So nwaptnpeva. 


59° 


595 


600 


605 


610 


615 


620 


CH. 


OE. 


OIAINOYS TYPANNOS 


And so think all who know what Wisdom is. 
Through you, all unafraid, I win my will; 

To crown me were to lay constraints on me. 
What can the despot’s throne confer more sweet 
Than peaceful sway and princely influence? 
When all clean gains of honourable life 

Are mine, must I run mad, and thirst for more? 
‘Good-day’ cries all the world, and open-armed 
Greets me! The King’s own suitors call for me, 


Since that way lies success! What? Leave all this, 


To win that Nothing? No, Disloyalty 

Were neither reason nor good policy. 

My nature holds no lust for that high thought, 

And loathes the man who puts that thought in act. 
Thus may you prove it—go to Pytho: ask 

If well and truly I have brought my message : 

Or thus—discover plot or plan wherein 

The seer and I joined council—I’ll pronounce 

The sentence, add my voice to thine, for death! 

Only, on vague suspicion charge me not. 

It is not fair, it is not just, for nothing 

To call a true man false, a false man true! 

To cast a good friend off—it is as if 

You cast the very life you love away. 


Well, Time shall teach you surely. For ’tis Time, 


And only Time, can prove a true man’s worth, 

Where one short day discovers villainy ! 

Good words, O King, for one that hath a care 

To scape a fall. Hot thoughts are dangerous! 
Ah! Where a secret plotter to his end 

Moves hot, as hotly must I counter him. 

Shall I sit still and bide his time? My all 

Were lost, in error mazed, and his work done. 


39 


Koupos. 
OTp. a. 


40 


KP. 
Ol. 

KP. 
Ol. 

KP. 
KP. 
KP. 
KP. 
KP. 
XO. 


KP. 


Ol. 


KP. 


10. 


XO. 
Ol. 


ZOPOKAEOY2 


ti Snta ypyleus; Hh pe yas ew Bade; 

9 , > a UA 
nota: OvyoKew ov puyew oe Bovhopat. 
¢ > ec / > \ UA / 

as ovy UreiEwr obdé miaTEVTwY héyeLs ; 


orav mpodeiéys oldv €or 70 POoverw. 


ov yap dpovodvyta o ed Brérw. OI. 7d yodv emor. 


GAN’ €€ ino Set kapdv. OI. add’ edus Kakds. 
ei 5 Evvins pndev; Ol. apxréov y spas. 

¥ a > »¥ > / s 
ovToL KaK@s y apxovTos. OI. w mods ods. 

> ‘ 4 / > A \ /, 
KGpol TOAEwWS PETETTW, OVYL Tol MOVe. 

, >» ‘ , $e RAP ee 

Tmavcaoc?, avaktes’ Kaipiav S duly dpa 

7 O93 , , > , ® 
THVd ék Sdpwv oteixovaav “loxdatyv, wel Hs 
TO vuv TaperTos velkos Ev OécOar ypewv. 


IOKASTH. 
Ti THY aBovdov, @ Tadaimwpor, oTAoW 
, > la 27Q° > 4 “A 
yrdoons éripacl ; ov8 éraroyiverbe, yijs 
OUTW VOTOVENS, lola KWOUVTES KAKG ; 
> + , > od , / ‘ 4 
ovk ef OUT OlKoUs ov TE, Kpéov, kata oréyas, 
‘ ‘ X » Van 2 > ee, 
Kal py TO pndev adyos eis wey’ olcere; 
4 , > 397 < \ / 
opaime, Sewa pw Oidérous 6 ods TOGKS 
Svoty Sixaot Spay amoxpivas KaKotr, 
a» ~ A“ nw 
] YHS amGoat warpisos, 7 Kreivar haBav. 
Eiponur Spévta yap vw, @ ybvat, KaKOS 
¥ na a 
etna Tovpov coma ody TExVN KaKy. 
, > , > eee! ia) * 4 
Hy vuv ovaisnv, GAN apatos, et o€ TL 
dé5pak’, ddroi, Dv é L pe Spa 
par’, nv, ov erautia me Spav. 
® \ ~ 
@ pos Dear tictevoov, Oidimous, Ta5e, 
4 
padiora pev T6V8 SpKov alder Deis Dear, 
Ereita Kape Tovade O ot maperoi cor. 
a , 
1 mov Oekjcas ppovncas 7, ava, iccopar. 
27t oor Oédeus SAT’ cixdOw ; 


625 


630 


635 


640 


645 


649 


CR. 
OE, 
CR. 
OE. 
CR. 
OE. 
CR. 
OE. 
CR. 
OE. 
CR. 
OE. 
CR. 
CH. 


Cr. 


OE. 


CR. 


Jo. 


CH. 
OE. 


OIAITOYE TYPANNOS 4I 


Come then. What is your will? To cast me forth... 
Not so! My will is death, not banishment. 
Still so unmoved? Can you not trust my word ? 
No, you must prove the folly of ambition ! 
Have you such wisdom ? 
I can play my hand! 
But should play fair with me!... 
—who are so false! 
If you are blinded... 
Still I must be King! 
Better unkinged; than Tyrant... 
| Thebes—my Thebes ! 
My Thebes, as thine! Both are her citizens! 
Stop, princes! Lo! From out the palace comes 
Jocasta, in your time of need. With her 
The evil of this quarrel turn to good. 


JOCASTA. 


O foolish! foolish! Why this rioting 
Of ill-conditioned words? For shame, with Thebes 
So suffering, to open private sores! 

Come in !...Go, Creon, home!...You must not turn 
What matters nothing into a great wrong. 

Sister, your husband Oedipus claims right 

To do me grievous wrong—his fatal choice, 

To thrust me from my country, or to slay me! 

Aye, wife, ’tis true. I find him practising 

Against my person craft and treachery. 

An oath! If aught in all this charge be true, 

Desert me good! May my own oath destroy me! 
Believe, believe him, Oedipus! Respect 

My prayer, and these, thy friends, that pray to thee, 
And, if not these, that oath’s solemnity ! 


I 


King, we are thy suppliants. Yield, be kind, be wise. 
What would you have me yield ? 


otp. B. 


42 


ZOPOKAEOYS 


XO. 8 Tov ovbre mplv vimuov viv 7’ &v 6pK@ péyav KaTaiderat. 
4 ota0’ obv ad xpyles; XO. oida. OI. ppdle dy ri dys. 


Ol. 


XO. 


Ol. 


XO. 


Ol. 


KP. 


OI. 


XO. 


10. 


XO. 


10. 


XO. 


5 Tov evayn dirov pndémor aitia 
6a & apavel héywr atiwov Bahetv. 
lal “ ‘\ 
7 ed vuv éeriate, Tav? drav Lyr7s, Ewot 
8 (ntav odeOpov } huyny ex THaSe yas. 
> \ 4 ~ ‘ ld 
1 ov Tov mavtrwv Dewy Oeov mpopov 
2°Aduov’ émet aleos adidos 6 TL TUMaTOV 
3 ddoipav, Ppdvyncw ei Tavd’ exw. 
4 da\\d por Svopdpy ya dbivovca 
5 Tpvxe Wuydy, TAS ei KaKOls KaKG 
6 mpoaawer Tots TahaL TA Tpds THOr. 
4 > > v > 4, n ~~ 
6 8 ovv ira, Kel XP) HE TavTehws Bbaveiv, 
Ral A ¥ “a Ss > An , 
 yns atyov THAD atrwaOjvar Bia. 

‘ ‘ , . ‘ eo > , /, 
TO yap Ov, OU TO TOVO, eTOLKTELPwW OTOMA 
€hewov' obros 87, vO av 7, oTvynoera. 
oTvyvos pev etkav SHdos et, Bapds 8, drav 

“ , c \ “a ft 
Oupod wepdons. ai dé rovavrar pices 


e “ / r Pie » / 
avrais Suxaiws eiciy adywora hépev. 


¥ > sa > \ > ‘4 
OUKOUVUYV B EAC ELS KAKTOS €L; KP. TOPEVOOLAL, 


“~ * \ > “A > A a 7 * 
Gov pev TUX@V AYVWTOS, EV dé Tod toos. 


4 
1 yovat, Ti wédAes Kopilew Sdpwv TOvd eow; 


2 pabovod y’ Aris H TUYN. 


656 


660 


665 


669 
670 


675 


678 
680 


8 Sdxnous dyvas dMé-ywv ADE, Scares 8 Kal TS pH *VOLKOV. 


4 ado am avrow; XO. vaiyr. 10. kat tis Av Adyos; 


9 4 > 9 “A / 
5 ahis Euouy, adus, yas mpotrovovpevas, 


6 haiverar, VP ener, adrod pevew. 


685 


CH. 


OE. 
CH. 
OE. 
CH. 


OE. 


CH. 


OE. 


CR. 


OE. 
CR. 


CH. 


Jo. 


CH. 


Jo. 


CH. 


Jo. 


CH. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 43 


Spurn him not that never yet was false, and now is strong 
in his great oath. 
Know you the thing you ask? 
We know. 
Speak on! 
Thy friend, so terribly bound by his oath to truth, 
For mere suspicion’s sake, 

Cast not away, blamed and disgraced. 
Be not deceived. As thus you ask, for me 
You ask destruction, or my flight from Thebes. 


Never! By him that is prince of the gods, the Sun, 
If that thought be in us, 
Hopeless, godless, friendless, may we perish ! 
Not so! Our hearts are heavy. The land we love is perishing. 
And now shall a hurt yourselves have made be added to the 
tale? 


So! Let him go...though I be slain for it, 
Or shamed, and violently thrust from Thebes. 
It is your pleading voice, ’tis not his oath, 
Hath moved me. Him I shall hate where’er he be. 
You yield, but still you hate; and as you pass 
From passion, you are hard. ’Tis very plain. 
Such men—tis just—reap for themselves most pain! 
Go! Get you gone, and leave me! 


I will go! 
You know not, pity not. These trust me still, and know! 
II 
Lady, stay no longer! Take your lord within. ’Tis time! 


First tell me what has chanced. 

Words that bred conjecture lacking knowledge, charges 
whose injustice galls. 
Came they from both ? 
From both. 
Tell me, what words? 
Enough! Already the land is afflicted sore! 
For me, enough that strife 
Fell, as it fell. There let it lie! 


44 TOPOKAEOY2 


A a , > / 
Ol. 7 dpas w HKeus, ayalos ov yvounv avyp, 
4 
8 ToUpOY TapLels Kal KaTapBdUvwY KEap ; 
95 Y / 
dvr. B. XO. 1 dva€, etrov pev odx ama€ povor, 689 
¥ A , »¥ o -% / 
2 to Ou S€ Tapadpdvor, amopov emi pporipa 
3 repavOa p av, & a evoodilopar, 
40s7 éuav yav diay ev movorow 
5 ddvovoay Kar dpbdv ovpicas, 695 
6 Tavov 7 EvTopTos ay yEvoLo. 
‘ a ¥ 9 \ 
10. mpos Dear Sidafov Kap’, avaé, OTOU ToTE 
A ¥ 
pnvW ToOHRVvOE TPAyLATOS OTHTAS EXELS. 
Ol. épa: cé yap ravd’ és mhéov, yivar, céBo— 700 
Kpéovros—otd por BeBovdevkas exer. 
10. dé’, ei cadds 7d vetkos éyKadar Epets. 
OI. dovéa pe dyot Aatov kabeoravan. 
10. avros Evvedds, 7) walav addov rapa; 
A ‘ 
Ol. pavrw pev ovv Kakodpyov eioméepabas, Emel 795 
76 eis EavTov Tay ehevlepot oTdpma. 
, > ‘ \ e / e 
10. ov vuv adeis ceavTov wy héyers TE pt 
€uov "raKovaov, Kal pal? ovver’ eoti cor 
Bpdrevov oddév pavtixns exov TEXVNS. 
hava Sé cor onpeia TaVOE GUVTOMA. 710 
‘\ »s > = 4 > > >. 
xXpnopos yap HAOe Aat@w oT —ovK €p@ 
PoiBov y am’ avrod, Trav 8 barnpetav aro, 
e > ‘\ 9 lal A \ lal 
as avTov Hou potpa mpos Tatoos Oaveir, 
daoTis yévour e“ov Te Kakeivou Tapa. 
\ ‘ / 9 , Wee 3 4 la A 
Kal TOV péev, woTEep y 1 Paris, E€vot ToTE 715 
Anotai dovedovo’ év Tpimals dpa€irots: 
‘ , . 
mraoos 5€ Bactas od Si€ayov Huepat 
Tpels, Kat vi appa Ketvos evlevEas Todow 
¥ » \ saw ¥ 
eppupev add\wv xepow eis aBatov dpos. 
KavTav0? ’Amod\d\wv ovt éxetvov Hvucev 720 
, , , »¥ ee 
govea yevér Oar tarpés, ovTe Adior, 
\ al ral 
70 Sewov odpoBeiro, mpos mados Oaveiv. 


OF. 


CH. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 45 


See where it leads you, though the thought was kind, 
To stay my hand and blunt my purposes. 


King, we have told it thee often, again we tell. _ 
Could we put thee from us, 
Call us fools and bankrupt of all wisdom. 


Not so! When this dear land on a sea of woes was perishing, 
You brought her a wind of Fortune. Steer the ship once more 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


safe home! 


I pray you, husband, give me also leave 

To know the cause of this so steadfast wrath. 

I'll tell it. You are more to me than these. 

*T was Creon, and his plotting for my hurt. 

Speak on, my lord. Make charge and quarrel plain. 

He says I am the murderer of Laius. 

Claiming to know it? Or on evidence? 

No, he has brought a rascal prophet in 

To speak, and save his own lips from the lie! 
Then leave these thoughts....Listen to me and learn, 

Listen...I’ll give my proof——On soothsaying 

Nothing depends. An oracle once came 

To Laius—I’ll not say it came from Phoebus, 

But from his ministers—that he should die 

Some day, slain by a son of him and me. 

Now, the King...strangers, robbers murdered him, 

So runs report, at a place where three roads meet : 

And the child, not yet three days from the birth, 

He took, and pierced his ancles, fettered him, 

And cast him out to die on the barren hills. 

Phoebus fulfilled not that; made not the son 

His father’s murderer; wrought not the thing 

That haunted Laius, death by that son’s hand. 


46 


Ol. 


10. 
Ol. 


IO. 
OI. 
10. 


Ol. 
10. 


Ol. 
Io. 
OI. 
10. 


Ol. 


IO. 
Ol. 


10. 
Ol. 


10. 


Ol. 


ZTOPUKAEOYS 


rovadTa dypar pavtikal Sidpiray, 

e > / ‘ § / 4.9 \ x i] \ 

av évtpérov ov pndév: wy yap av Beds 

Xpelav epevva padiws avros pave. 

oldv wp akovaavt aptias exe, yvvat, 

Wuy7ns Thavnpwa Kavakwno.s ppevav. 

Totas pepipvyns TOV broaTpadeis héyets ; 

2 2 “ “ 4Q> e c fee 

€d0€ axovaat cov T60, ws 6 Adios 

Katacgpayein mpos Tpimdats apagirors. 
> “ ‘ a> > 4 la > ¥ 

nvdaro yap TadT’, ovdé mw AyEavT’ exeu. 

‘ a? p ¢ la 3} a 4~? 3 , 
Kai 1ov of 6 y@pos odtos 06 768 Hv 1dOos; 
Doris pev H yn Khjlerar, oxiaTH 5 680s 
és TavTd Aeddav Kad Aavdias aye. 

‘ 7 4 “ t a 4 \ e 4 
Kal TLS Ypovos Tolwo eaTiV ovéeknArvais ; 

4 "y a ‘ “A Ss’ ¥ A 
oxeddv Tt tpdcbe Hh od THIS Exwv xOovds 
> ‘ 3 4 ye ME 4 / 
apynv épaivov, Tout exnpvxOn mode. 
® Zev, ti pov Spaca BeBovrevora wépr; 
9? 2 / a3 297 > Ud 
ti 8 éori wou Tour’, Oidizous, evOvpuov ; 
4 ee 4 4 \ fee , 
piTwo pw épota: Tov d€ Adiov dvaw 

43 > 4 , > \ 4 »” 
tiv’ eixe ppale, Tivos axunv 4Rys exwv. 
péyas, xvodlwv apt. hevKavbés Kapa, 
popdys dé THs ons ovK amerTareL Odd. 

¥ , ¥ 29 \ sf Tits 
olor TaAas* €OLK eavTor els apas 

‘\ 4 > 4 > > , 

Sewas mpoBdhdav apriws ovK eidéva. 


a , > n \ ye) ee) »” 
TWS bys ; OKV@ TOL T Pos GO amTooKoTov~e , avaé. 


SewOs dOvpd ph Brérov 6 pdveis 7. 
/ \ “A x» a > / »¥ 
deters 5é paddov, Hv ev e€eians ert. 
\ \ > “A 4 aA > ¥ ei Bu 
kal pnv oxve peév, av 8 épy pabovo’ épa. 
, aA 4 x \ ¥ 
TOTEpov €xoper Baws, 7 wohdovs exwv 
» 5 if , a 9 4 5 , 
avopas hoxitas, of avnp apxynyerns; 
, he € 4, > > > a > 
T&T noav ov Evumravtes, ev 8 avtotow Hv 
nw 5 > , > > yee , 
KHpvg* amyvn 8 nye Adiov pia. 
aiat, TAd HO Siadhavy. ris Hv more 
€ Ud 8 hé \ , e a , 
0 Tovad€E hé~as ToOvs No-yous bpiv, yivar; 


725 


73° 


735 


740 


745 


75° 


755 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 


So dread, so false was prophecy! And you 
Regard it not. The god right easily 
Will bring to light whate’er he seeks and wills. 
Wife, as I heard you speak, within my soul 
What trouble stirred! What fearful doubt was born! 
What moves you to speak thus? What is your fear? 
I seemed to hear you say that Laius 
Was murdered at a place where three roads meet ? 
So it was said, and so it still is said. 
Tell me the country where this thing was done? 
Phocis the land is called, where meet the roads 
That run from Delphi and from Dauilia. 
Tell me how long ago? 
*Twas publishéd 
Just before you were known as King in Thebes. 
O Zeus, what is it thou wilt do with me! 
What is it, Oedipus, in this, that moves you? 
Ask nothing yet. Tell me of Latus— 


What was his stature? Tell me, how old was he ?— 


Tall, and his hair turning to grey, his shape 
Not unlike yours— 

My curse! Oh, ignorant! 
Alas! I see it was myself I cursed. 
Speak! When I look at you I am afraid— 
My thoughts are heavy. Had the prophet eyes? 
Help me to make it clear: one answer more— 
I am afraid, but ask! If I know, I'll tell. 
How travelled Laius? Went he single out, 
Or, like a King, with retinue and guard? 
They were five, five in all, and one of them 
A herald—and one chariot for the King. 
All out, alas! All clear! Come, tell me, wife, 
Who brought the news? Who gave you that report? 


47 


48 
10. 


Ol. 
10. 


Ol. 
10. 
OI. 
10. 


Ol. 


ZTOPOKAEOYS 


oixeds Tus, Oomep ter’ exo wleis povos. 

Hh Kav Soporor tuyere Tavuv mapar 3 ; 

od Shr’ ad’ ob yap KetOey HOe Kai Kpary 
oé7 etd éxovta Adidv 7 ddwhorTa, 
e€ixérevare THS Enns XeLpos Ovyav 

dypovs ode Tépipar Kami Toimviwr vopas, 
&s metarov Ein TOVS arOTTOS AOTEWS. 

+ >. '3 4 A ‘ Cy See J ‘ 
Karem eyo vw: a&vos yap ot avnp 
Soddos dépew Hv THOSE Kai peilw yap. 

al a» , ay ¢ > , 4 
mas av poro. On? jpiv ev taxer Taw; 

, > A ‘ 4 oR , 
mdapeotiv’ GANG mpos Ti TOUT eplerar; 
SéSoun’ epavrdv, @ ytvat, 4) TOAN ayav 

> Tages 2 al. > A / 
cipnuev’ 7H por, Ov a vu eiodetv Odo. 
Gd’ terar pev: agia Sé ov pabew 

> S 4 > > ‘ , ¥ > ¥ 
Kayo Ta y ev coi Svaddpws ExovT, ava€. 
Kou pi) otepnOys y’, és TooovTor édrribwr 
> nw a lal A a \ / 
énov BeBaros. Te yap av Kat peilour 
hé€auw’ av H cot, 1a Tvyns Toaed’ idv ; 

enol matip pev IlohkvBos Hv KopivO.os, 

"y \ / : 4 > / a) ‘ 
pntnp Sé Meporn Aapis. yydunv 8 avnp 
GOTaV peyLaTOS TMV EKEL, TPLV LoL TUX 

7Q9 9 4, Ud \ ta ald 
Toudd éréorn, Oavpdaoa pev aia, 
oTovons ye pevTo. THS Euns ovK agia. 
> ‘ ‘ > , | eee ‘ 4 
avnp yap év Seimvors p’ brepmAnoOels peOy 
Kahet rap olvm, ThaaTOos ws einv Tarpl. 

> ‘\ \ ‘ A > 3 , 
kayo Bapuvbeis Thy pév ovoay Huepay 
podis karéxyxov, Oardpa & idv médas 

‘ , > ¥ € \ /, 

BYTpOS TaTpos T Hreyxov: ot dé SuePdpas 

¥ ea ~ , 
Tovvedos Hyov TO peOevte TOV hdyov. 

> ‘ \ 
Kayo Ta pev Keivow éTEepTrouny, opws Oo 
+ , > es le Pig e Lal ‘ 4, 
exvilé pw ael TOV’ vdetpme yap odv. 

, 

AdOpa S€ pyrpds Kal warpos wopevomat 
TlvOade, Kai p’ 6 DotBos av pév ixdunv 


760 


765 


77° 


775 


780 


785 


OIAITOY2 TYPANNOS 


Jo. One servant who alone escaped alive. 

Or. Where is that servant now? Here, in my house? 
Jo. No,no! He is not here. When he came home, 
And saw you on the throne, and Laius dead, 

He touched me by the hand, beseeching me 

To send him out into some pasture lands 

Far off, to live far from the sight of Thebes. 

And I—I sent him—he deserved, my lord, 

Though but a slave, as much, nay more, than this. 
OE. Come, we must have him back, and instantly ! 
Jo. *Tis easy....Yet—What would you with the man? 
OE. I fear myself, dear wife; I fear that I 

Have said too much, and therefore I must see him. 
Jo. Then he shall come. Yet, have not I some claim 

To know the thought that so afflicts my lord ? 
OE. [ll not refuse that claim, so deep am I 

Gone in forebodings. None so close as you, 

To learn what ways of destiny are mine. 

My father was of Corinth, Polybus ; 

My mother Merope, Dorian. As a prince 

I lived at first in Corinth, till there fell 

A stroke of Fortune, very strange, and yet 

Not worth such passion as it moved in me. 

Some fellow, at a banquet, flown with wine, 

Called me my father’s bastard, drunkenly ; 

And I was angry, yet for that one day 

Held myself back, though hardly. Then I sought 

Mother and father, questioning. The taunt 

Their anger made him rue that let it fly, 

And I was glad to see them angry. Still 

It rankled, and I felt the rumour grow. _ 

I told my parents nothing, but set forth 

To Pytho. Phoebus, for my journey’s pains, 

S. 


49 


50 


ZTOPOKAEOY2 


¥ > 4 
arysov é€érepipev, adda 8 aO\va 
¥ , 
kat Sewa Kal Svatnva mpovdynvev héyov, 
“a , > 
ds pntpt pev xpein pe poxOnvas, yévos 8 
atdntov avOparoior Snhacoiw opar, 
“ /, 
hovers & éxoiunv tov putevoavtos Tarpos. 
lal ?, 
Kayo, raKkovoas TaUTA, Thv Kopw6iar, 
/ 
dortpots TO Aourdv experpovpevos, XOdva 
»¥ ¥ 4 a , n 
ehevyor, ev0a pymrot dioiuny KaKav 
Xpnoparv dveidy TOV Euav Tehovpeva. 
a e 
ateixov 8 ixvotpar Tovade Tovs yHpous év ots 
» Tov TU Drov O\Ava Oat rE 
ov Tov TUpavvorv TovTOV OAdva Oat hEyels. 

ld 4 > A > “A lal 
Kai ool, yuvat, TAnOes EEep@. TpuTdys 
6r 4 KedevOov THATS Sdouvropar Tédas, 
évrad0d po. knpvé Te Kami THdLKTS 
> \ > 4 > , ® ‘ 4 
avnp amryvns €uBeBas, otov ov dys, 

4 Ps > c ~ 7. c ‘ 
Evvynvrialov’ Ka€ dd00 p’ 6 F yyeuav 
> 4 ¢ 4 ‘\ ld > / 
autos F 6 rpéaBus rpos Bia Hravvernv. 
Kay® TOV eKTpEeTOVTA, TOV TPOYNAATND, 

4 > 9 lal 4 | eh | 4, c i4 a“ 
taiw dv dpyns* Kat p 6 mpéoBus ws.6pa, 
6XOU, TAPACTELYOVTA THPHT AS, Mérov 
Kapa Sutdois KévTpoiot pov Kabixero. 

> ‘\ ¥ > ¥ > \ ¢ 
ov pny tony y EeTrecev, GANA TUVTOpwS 
TKYATTPH TUTEls—EK THTSE YELPOS—UTTLOS 
4 > 4 y > ‘\ > 4 
péons amrnvys evOds exxvdivderar’ 

, A ‘ A > A ~ 4 
xreivw O€ Tovs SYptravtas....ei b€ To E€vw 
TovT@ TpoorjKe Aaiw Tr ovyyeves, 

, lal lal 4 ee \ > 4, 
Tis TOVdE VUV EoT avdpos AOALMTEpoS ; 
tis €xOpodaipwr paddov av yévour’ dvip ; 
a ‘ 4 ¥ > > nw 
ov py Eevav eEeots pnd dorar Tie 
Sdpous S€verVar, unde tpoodhwvety twa, 
abe & am oikwv. Kai ta& ovtis addos Hv 
ON Nees ah Re See | a ’ Meee Sti Ueeeae , 
} yo mr €uavt@ taad apas 6 mpoortieis. 
hexn S€ ro Yavdvros ev yepoiv euaiv 


79° 


795 


800 


805 


810 


815 


820 


OIAITOY2 TYPANNOS 


Gave me no clue—dismissed me—yet flashed out, 
In words most strange and sad and horrible :— 
‘Thou shalt defile thy mother, show mankind 

A brood by thee begot intolerable, 

And shalt be thy own father’s murderer,’ 

When this I heard, I fled. Where Corinth lay 
Henceforth I guessed but by the stars. My road 
Was exile, where I might escape the sight 
Of that foul oracle’s shame fulfilled on me. 

And as I went, I came to that same land 
In which you tell me that your King was slain. 

Wife, I will tell you all the truth. I passed 
Close by that meeting of three ways, and there 
A herald met me, and a man that drove 
Steeds and a car, even as you have said, 

The leader, aye, the old man too, were fain 
To thrust me rudely from the road. But I, 
When one that led the horses jostled me, 
Struck him in anger. This the old man saw, 
And, from the car—watching for me to pass— 
Full on my head dashed down his forking goad— 
But paid me double for it. Instantly, 
Out from the car, my staff and this right hand 
Smote him and hurled him backward to the ground, 
And all of them I slew. 

If there be aught 
That makes that stranger one with Laius, 
There lives to-day no wretch so sad as I, 
Nor ever can be one more scorned of heaven 
Than I, whom none may welcome, citizen 
Or stranger, to his home; nor speak to me; 
But only drive me out. And this—'twas [, 
No other, on myself invoked this curse. 
These hands, by which he died, pollute his bed | 


4—2 


52 


XO. 


Ol. 


10. 
Ol. 


IO. 
OI. 


10. 


ZOPOKAEOYS 


> 
xpaive, dv dvrep wher. ap’ epuv Kaxds; 
Lal »” A / “A 
ap ovxi was avayvos; et pe xpy puyelv, 
Kal pou pyyovtt phot. TOds Euods ideiy, 
ee See | , io x , 8 -~ 
py p euBarevew rarpidos, 7 yapous pe Sel 
pntpos Cvynvar kal marépa KaTaKTavetv 
IldAvBov, ds é&épuore na€eOpepé pe. 
ap ovk am apov Taira Saimovds Tis av 
kpivov é dvdpt Tod’ Gv dpOoin éyov ; 
‘ an ‘ 8n > > 0 Lal c ‘ / 
py Onta, pn Snr, @ Oedv ayvov véBas, 
¥' 4 c / > 9.2 a 
Loon TAVTHY Huepav, add’ €x Bpotav 
Bainy ddavros rpdcbev 7 roudvd’ ety 
AOD 3 an al > , 
KNALO emavT@ oupdopas advypevyv. 
¢ 6 4 > mS) WD "20 4 Ss x > 
Hpw pe, ava€, Tadt dKvip: ews 5 av ovv 
sy lal 4 > / 2: 2 48 ‘3 
Tpos TOU TapovTos exuadOys, Ex’ Edrrida. 
Kal pny TorovTov y é€oti pou THS eArribos, 
Tov avdpa Tov BoTrnpa mpoopetvar povov. 
4 ‘ , Fd , 
Tmepacpevov S€ Tis 7of H mpobupia ; 
24 3% , > x \ e a / 
ey® diddfw o°* Hv yap eipeOn héywr 
‘ | ¥ > x > / /, 
gol TavT, eywy av éxmepevyoinv mabos. 
mrotov S€ pov TEepiaaov HKovaas hdyor ; 
Anotas epackes avTov avdpas evverew 
WS VW KaTaKTeiverav. eb ev OUP ETL 
héEer Tov adrov apiOpdv, odk éy@ *KTavov- 
> bs ld > HK ® an al >” 
ov yap yévour Gv eis ye Tots TodXOtS Loos" 
> > »¥ ee. Wie 4 >7 > / “ 
eid avdp &’ oidlwvov avdjoe, cadas 
P'S: 2 ‘ ¥ ¥ > > » OM. erg 
TovT €oTilv 4Oy ToUpyor eis Eue Perov. 
GN’ as havev ye TovTOs GO exictaco, 
Py ¥» > “a lal , ee ia) , 
KOUK EOTW avT@ TOUTS y exBadely wad: 
, ‘ A > > + ee / 4 
TOMS yap Nkovo’, OVK ey@ povn, TAOE. 
> Ss > > , A , / 
el 0 ovv TL KaKTpEroLTO TOU Tpdaber oyov, 
» a ‘ ‘ sh , 
ovTo. ToT, avak, Tov ye Aatov dovov 
pavet duxaiws dpOdv, dv ye Aokias 
Suctre xphvar Taidos €€ Euod Oaveiv. 


825 


830 


835 


840 


845 


850 


CH. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OIAITOY2 TYPANNOZS 53 


And her that shared it. Am I vile enough? 
Am I not all uncleanness. I must fly ; : 
And, though I fly from Thebes, must never set 
My foot in my own country, never see 

My people there, or else I must be joined 

In marriage with my mother, and must kill 
My father, Polybus, that got and reared me. 

If any judge my life and find therein 
Malignant stars at work, he hath the truth. 

No, No! Ye pure and awful gods, forbid 
That I should see that day! Oh, let me pass 
Out from the world of men, before my doom 
Of living set so foul a blot on me! 

O King, we fear thy words, yet bid thee hope, 
Till he that saw the deed bring certainty. 
Why—hope, one little hope, remains. ’Tis this :— 
To wait that herdsman’s coming; nothing more. 
What—if he comes—what would you have of him? 
Listen, and I will tell you. If it prove | 
He speaks as you have spoken, I am saved. 
Tell me, what was it in my words? 

You said 
This was his tale, that robbers slew the King, 
Robbers. If he confirm it, if he speak 
Of numbers still, it was not I, not I, 
That slew. One man is not a company. 
But if he names one lonely wayfarer, 
Then sways the deed to me, and all is true. 

No. It is certain. When he brought his news 
He told it thus. Not I alone, but all 
Our city heard. He cannot take it back. 

And should he swerve a little from his tale, 
He cannot show, my King, that Laius died 
As prophets would have had him. Loxias 
Declared a son of mine must murder him ;— 


, 
OTp. a. 


54. TOPOKAEOYE 


/ > n~ ff se 4 /, 
Kaito. viv ov Kewos y’ 6 S¥aTHVds TOTE 
¥ 
katéxtay , GX’ avtdos mapoiHev wero. 
agQ> ‘\ 
WoT ovxt pavtelas y’ av ovTE THD eyo 
, >a a > ¥ AQ? aK A 
Brébaiw’ av ovver’ ovre THD &v VoTEpov. 
nm 9 \ 
OI. Kahds vopileis....add’ Ouws TOV épyarnv 
, \ la) de aA > > a 
Téuapov Twa oTEhovVTA, MNdE TOUT adys. 
¥ 
10. réubo taydvac’. add’ topev és Sdmous: 
xa ¢ 
ovdev yap av mpatay, av av ov col didov. 
XO. et pou Evvein hépovre 
2 polpa Tay evoeTTov ayvelav Aoywv 
«® 
8 Epywv TE TAVTMV, OY VOMOL TpdKEWTaL 
e , > , 
4 whimodes, ovpaviay 
5 Ov aid€pa rexvwbévres, av "Ovptros 
6 TaTIp pdvos, OvdE VW 
‘ , > la 
7 Ovara hvous avépwv 
¥ PaND! , , /, 
8 eruxTev, ovde py TOTE AdOa KaTaKoLMdon* 
4 > 4 , > \ ld 
9 péyas ev Tovrous Dds, odd€ ynpaoxe. 


> , WA 4 4 
dvt.a’. wvBpuis puTever TYpavvov: 
2 UBpis, et wohdav drepTANCOH parar, 
a » ee , \ , 
3a py Tikatpa unde cvpdéporta, 
> , , o 2 \ 
4 axpotara tis 8 avaBas 
3 / a AX ¥ > > , 
5 amoTopov <avnp> wpovoer eis avdyKay, 
¥ > > \ la 
6 vf ov Todi xpnoipw 
~ . lal > »¥ 
7xXpHTa. TO Kaas 8 éxyov 
8 ode. Tahaiopa pyrote doa Ody airodpa. 
. > , A ld ¥ 
9 Oedv ob AjEw wore tpoorarar tyr. 
orp. B. et 8€ 1s brepomra xEepolv } Mbyw mopederan, 
2 Aixas apdByros, ovdé 
8 Saydver €dn o€Bur, 
4 Kakd viv €ouTo poipa, 
5 Suométpov Xap y\das, 
> ‘ x l4 “ , 
6 €l wn TO Képdos Kepdavel Sixaiws 


855 


860 


865 


870 


873 


875 


880 


883 
885 


OE. 


Jo. 


CH. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 


And then that poor lost creature never lived 

To kill him. Long ere that, my child was dead. 
Since that, for all the soothsayers can tell, 

I go straight on, I look not right nor left. 

’Tis well. ’Tis very well. And yet—that slave— 
Send for him. Have him fetched. Neglect it not. 
I'll send without delay. Let us go in. 

I will do nothing, nothing, but to please you. 


Be the prize of all my days 
In every word, in every deed, 
Purity, with Reverence. 
Laws thereof are set before us. 
In the heights they move. 
They were born where Heaven is, 
And Olympus fathered them. 
Mortal parent have they none, 
Nor shall man’s forgetfulness ever make them sleep. 
A god in them is great. He grows not old, 


Insolence it is that breeds 
A tyrant, Insolence enriched 
Overmuch with vanities, 
Gains unmeet, that give no profit. 
So he climbs the height, 
So down to a destiny 
Evil utterly he leaps, 
Where there is no help at all. 
True Ambition, for the State, quench it not, O God! 
Apollo, still in thee is my defence. 


True Ambition, yes! But if a man 
Tread the ways of Arrogance; | 
Fear not Justice, honour not the gods enshrined ; 
Evil take him! Ruin be the prize 
Of his fatal pride! 
If his gain be gain of wrong, 


55 


56 ZOPOKAEOY2 


7 kal Tov aoéntwv ep&erar, 890 
8} tov abixror Oi€erar pard lov. 

9 Tis €ru mor ev ToLTO avnp Deav BEdn 

10 ev€erau yuxas apvvew ; 

11 el yap ai rovaide mpders Tipiat, 895 
12 ri Set pe xopeverr ; 


/ lal > 
dvr. 8’. ovkéru Tov aOuKTov eips yas ér dupaddoyv oéBar, 

2 0v0 és Tov ABatot vaor, 
8 ovde Tav ‘Odvpriar, goo 

> ‘ 4, / 
4 ei py) TAOE YELPOOELKTA 
5 maow apydoae Bporois. 
6 GAN’, @ Kpatuvwr, eirep OPO” axovess, 

“w ld aed , ‘ 4, 
7 Zed, wav avacowr, pr AdOou 

A , ‘\ > 4 >\ 5 , « 
8 o€ Tay Te cay AOavator aiev apxav. 905 
9 dUivovta yap Aatov <7ahaibara> 
10 Orda’ é€arpodow 75n, 
11 Kovdapod Tiysats “Amdd\r\wv eudavys* 
12 eppe dé Ta Beta. gio 


10. xépas dvaxres, 56€a por tapertdn 

‘ c 4 , 4Q> “a 
vaovs ikéobar Sarpdvav, TAS ev yEpoww 

td 4 > , 
atépyn KaBovon Kamilupidpara. 
e La! ‘ ¥ . > / 4 
vYov yap atpe. Ovpoy Oidimous ayav 
Urata. Tavrotacw* ovd dmot avnp 915. 
EVVOUS TA Kava TOls TAAL TEKMALpETat, 
GAN’ €or TOD héyovTos, Hv PdBous heyy. 

9 > > lal lal 

OT oOvV Tapawova ovder es TEOV TrOLO, 

\ > vi ¥ 
mpos o, @ Avxeu’ “AmrohXor, ayxuoros yap el, 
¢ 4 > Lal cal 
LKETLS adiypat TOLT OE ovv KaTEvVY Lac Lv, 920 
9 A 
omws Yow TW’ Huiv evayn Tdpys: 
4 ~~ nw 
@s vuY OKVOUmEY TaVTES ExTreTANYpLEVOV 
kewov Bd€érovres as kuBepvyTny veos. 


Jo. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 57 


If he know not reverence, 
If in vanity he dare profane 
Sanctities inviolate, 
Then from the arrows of the gods what mortal man shall 
save his soul alive? 
If doings such as these be countenanced, 
What mean religion’s holy dance and hymn? 


No more shall I seek in reverence 
Earth’s inviolate Central Shrine ; 
No more go to Abai, nor Olympia ; 
If before all eyes the oracle 
Fit not the event ! 
Zeus, if thou art rightly named, 
King and Master over all, 
Save thine honour! Let not this escape 
Thine eternal governance ! 
Look to thy oracles of old concerning Laius; put to nought 
by man, 
They fade, nor is Apollo glorified 
In worship any more. Religion dies! 


Princes of Thebes, the thought has come to me 
To seek the temples of the gods with boughs 
Of supplication and these offerings 
Of incense. Oedipus, much overwrought, 
And every way distracted, cannot judge 
The present sanely by the past, but lends 
All ears to every voice that bids him fear. 
So, since my words are spent in vain, I come 
To thee, Apollo—thou art near to us, 
Lycean !—and I pray thee, take the gift, 
And grant some clean way of deliverance! 
We are afraid ; for Oedipus, the guide 
And captain of us all, runs mad with fear. 


58 


XO. 
AL, 
10. 
AY. 
10. 


AY. 


10. 
AT. 


10. 
AY. 
10. 
Ar’. 
10. 


Ol. 


10. 


OI. 
10. 


ZOPOKAEOY2 
ATTEAO®. 


s cal 7 
ap av rap tyav, @ Eévor, pdboun’ dtrov 
‘ A , , a, a \ iol 
Ta TOV TUpavvov Separ éativ Oidimov ; 
4 > ay. ¥ > > ¢ Ae 9 
pdhvora 8° abrov etrar’, ei KaticO ozov. 
4 X ¥ | a ¥ 5 > , 
oréyar pev aide, KavTOS Evdorv, w E€veE: 
yuvn Sé pytnp nde TOV Keivou Téxvar. 
add’ 6\Bia re kai Edv ddABious aet 
, $°° 9 , > \ § , 
yévour, ekelvou y ovoa travTedns Sapap. 
¥ \ \ Oe At 3 s >? x s > 
avrtws 5é kai ov y’, @ Eév’: a&wos yap ef 
lal > / 4 > > \ 47> ¢ 
THS EveTretas ovvek. ahha dpal’ orov 
, , ya 4 A , 
xpHtov adbiEar yo tr onpnvar Oédrov. 
> ‘\ - » , “a “ 4 
ayaba Sdépous Te Kal TOTEL TO OG, yUvaL. 
A al nw 
7a TOla TavTA; Tapa Tivos 8 aduypevos ; 
> ial 7 x 2, - e Lan , 
ex THS KopivOov. 71d 8 eros ov€epa Taxa, 


45010 pév, was 8 ovK av; aoxaAddous 8 tows. 


ti 8 €ort; roiay Sivapw ad exer Suadqv; 
TUpavvov avrov ovmuyapior yOovds 
TS IoOpias orjoovow, ws nvdar éKel. 


tt 8; ovy 6 rpéaBus IdAvBos éyxparys er; 


> wes .'S , , > , » 
ov O77’, rei vw Odvartos év radois exer. 


TOs eiras; 7 TEOvnKEe T1dAvBos, <@ yépov;> 


> ‘\ al nw 

el pn éyw TarnOes, d&ia Oaveiv. 

S 4 > | ee , 7OQ> OC 4 

@ Tpoa7on’, ovxt Seamdty TAD ws TAXOS 

nw > lal 

podovoa hé€eus; & Oedv pavredpara, 

WV. 2 /% 4 lal 2Q7 , 4 

W €oTe: TovTOV Oldimous Tada TPéwwv 
‘ ¥ 5 > ¥ ‘ , 4 lal Af) 

TOV avop EepEevye 7) KTaVOL* Kal OV OE 

‘ A 

Tpos THS TUYNS OAwdev OVSE TOVS Uz. 

7 4 ‘\ > 4 , 

@ pitatov yuva.kds “loxdorns Kapa, 
/ = AA ld lal nw , 

Ti pm e€erréuapw Sedpo TAvdE Swpdruv ; 

¥ > lal f 

akove TaVdpos TODSE, Kal oKdTEL KAVwV 
‘ , 7979 ¥ nm lal 

Ta oeuy W KEL TOU Oeod pavrevpara. 
& , 

obros S€ tis mor’ éoti Kal TL rou Eyer; 

> “ 4 

€x 7S KopivOov, rarépa tov ody ayyehov 


925 


930° 


935 


949 


945 


95° 


955 


CH. 


ME. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OIAINOYS TYPANNOS 


MESSENGER FROM CORINTH. 


Can you direct me, strangers, to the house 

Of Oedipus, your Master.—Better still, 

Perchance you know where I may find the King ? 
This is the house, and he within. The Queen, 
His wife and mother of his home, is here. 

His wife, and blest with offspring! Happiness 
Wait on her always, and on all her home! 


. I wish you happy too. Your gracious speech 


Deserves no less. Tell me, with what request 
You are come hither, or what news you bring. 


. Lady, good news for him and all his house. 
. Why, what good news is this? Who sent you here? 
. | come from Corinth, and have that to tell 


I think will please, though it be partly sad. 


. What? Can a sad tale please? How? Tell it me! 
. The people of that country, so men said, 


Will choose him monarch of Corinthia. 


. What? Is old Polybus no longer King? 

. No longer King. Death has him in the grave. 
. Death! Say you so? Oedipus’ father dead ? 

. If he be not so, may I die myself! 


Quick! To your master, girl; tell him this news! 
O oracles of the gods, where are you now! 
This was the man that Oedipus so feared 
To slay, he needs must leave his country. Dead! 
And ’tis not Oedipus, but Fortune slew him! 
Tell me, Jocasta, wife of my dear love, 
Why you have called me hither, out of doors. 
Let this man speak ; and as you listen, judge 
The issue of the god’s grand oracles! 
This man, who is he? What has he to tell? 
He comes from Corinth, and will tell you this :— 


59 


60 


OI. 
AT. 


Ol. 
AT. 
Ol. 
Ar, 
Ol. 


10. 
Ol. 
IO. 
Ol. 
10. 


Ol. 


10. 
Ol. 


ZOPOKAEOY= 


ws ovKér ovTa Tld\vBov, ddAX’ d6d\@dora. 

/ 4 tas ee ‘\ / A 
ti dys, €€v’; avtds por od oOnpavTwp yevov. 
el ToUTO mpaTov Set p amayyethar Tapas, 

al 7 / 
ev tof exetvov Oavacov BeBykora. 
morepa Oddo, 7) vooov Evvahrayy ; 
opiKpa Tarai capar evvaler pom. 

, ¢ 4 e ¥ ¥ 0 
vooo.s 6 TAHpewr, ws Eoiker, EpOito. 

Kal TO MAkp@ ye TULPETPOUPEVOS KpPOVY. 

lal lal A oe 28 
hed hed, Ti Snr av, & ybvaL, TKOTOITO TUS 

\ ld ¢€ / a» ‘ » 

THv IvOdpavtw éortiav, 7 ToUs avw 

, ¥” @ © A > 8 
Kdalovras Opveis, av vdnyynTav éyw 

Lal ¥ l4 4 3 id ¢ A A 

Krevel €wedAov Tatépa Tov euov; 6 d€ Oavav 
Kevlar kato 5) yns* eyo & 6d evOdde 

¥ ¥ ¥ 4 ee , 
axbavoTos Eyyous'—el TL 7 TOU@ TOOw 
KatépOu?’: ovtw & av Oavav ein ’E Euod— 
7a © ovv mapovta ovdAkaBov Oeoricpara 
Kelray Tap “Avon IIdduBos aév oddevos. 
ovKoUY éy® vol TadTa Tpovreyov mahat; 

1) 3 ‘ de “a la , 
nvoas: eyw o€ To hoBw Trapnyounv. 

A A ¥ > > A ; de > A , 

Bn vov €r avTav pdev és Ovpov Badgs. 
‘\ a A Lal 
Kal TOS TO NTPs €KTpov ovK dKveElv pe SEL; 

"4 7K OSS: 5 & \ wn 4 

ti 8 Gv hoBoir’ avOpwmos, @ Ta THS TUXNS 
“ / : ‘\ 3 ‘ , 
Kparet, mpdvora 8 éotiv ovdevds cadys; 
> nw ~ 
€\KH Kpatiotov Chv, OTws SvvatTO TUsSi 
‘\ > > \ * “ 
ov & eis Ta pntpos ph hoBov vupdevpara: 
rey ‘ \ no > > , ca 
To\ol yap non Kav dvelpacw Bpotav 
\ lal 
pytpt Evvervdc Onoav. ddda tadO’ dro 
T > >) / > ea . '¢ la 
ap ovoev cot, paota Tov Biov Péper. 
A 9 lal 
Kadws atavta tavt av é€eipytd cou, 
> ca 4, A“ aimee “ nn > > ‘ 
el un KUpeL Cao 4 TeKovaa: viv 8, ere 
“~ Ate Hie | , lal a 
{y, Tae avdykn, Kei kadds héyets, dxveiv. 
XN ~ i4 ae 

Kat pny peyas y opbadpos ot rarpos radou. 
/ id > ] ‘ lal 

péyas, Evvinn’: dda. ths Léans ddBos. 


960 


965 


97° 


975 


980 


985 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 


Polybus is no more. Your father’s dead. 

OE. What! Is this true, sir? Answer for yourself! 

ME. If this must needs come first in my report, 
"Tis true enough. King Polybus is dead. 

OE. By treachery? Or did sickness visit him ? 

ME. A little shift of the scale, and old men sleep. 

Or. Ah! My poor father died, you say, by sickness ? 

ME. Yes, and by reason of his length of days. 

Or. Ahme! Wife, why should any man regard 
The Delphic Hearth oracular, and the birds 
That scream above us—guides, whose evidence 
Doomed me to kill my father, who is dead, 

Yes, buried under ground, and I stand here, 

And have not touched my weapon.—Stay! Perchance 
*Twas grief for me. I may have slain him so. 
Anyhow, he is dead, and to his grave 

Has carried all these oracles—worth nought ! 

Jo. Worth nought. Did I not tell you so long since? 

OE. You told me, but my fears misguided me. 

Jo. Banish these thoughts for ever from your soul. 

OE. No, no! Shall I not fear my mother’s bed ? 

Jo. | Why, what should a man fear? Luck governs all ! 
There’s no foreknowledge, and no providence! 
Take life at random. Live as you best can. 
That’s the best way. What! Fear that you may wed 
Your mother? Many a man has dreamt as much, 
And so may you! The man who values least 
Such scruples, lives his life most easily. 

Or. All this were well enough, that you have said, 
Were not my mother living. Though your words 
Be true, my mother lives, and I must fear. 

Jo. At least your father’s death is a great hope. 

Ok. I know. Yet she that lives makes me afraid. 


62 


AT. 
Ol. 
AT. 
Ol. 
AY. 
Ol. 


AY. 
Ol. 
AT. 


Ol. 
AT. 


Ol. 
AT. 
Ol. 
AY. 
Ol. 
AY. 
Ol. 
AT’. 
Of. 
AI’. 
Ol. 
AY. 
OJ. 
At. 
Ol. 


ZOPOKAEOY2 


A > 
motas S€ Kai yuvaikos expoBetal vaep; 
¢ »* , 
Meporns, yepare, HddkuBos ns @Ker pera. 
ti 8 €or éxeivns tpiv és poBov pé€pov ; 
4 4 4 Ss , 
Denarov pavrevpa Sewdv, @ §éve. 
> rad 
h pytov; 4 odxt Oewerdy addov €idevar; 
, A 
pdduota y’* ele yap pe Aogias more 

lal lal lal / 
XPHvaL puynvar pyTpl THUAVvTOV, TO TE 
Tatp@ov ala Xepot Tats Ewais Ehetv. 

dv ovvex’ 7) KépwOos €& Exod radar 
‘ > a3 > “ ia > 7 
pakpay ar@KeiT* EvTUXYaS MEV, GAN OMws 
\ lat , ¥ \ aL. 4 / 
Ta TOV TeKOVTOY Oppal HdvrTov Bdrérew. 
> X 7O9 9 lal a >  Mige ‘ 
Hh yap T48 dxvav KeiPev Ho amdmtoNs ; 
matpos Te xp7lwv un poveds civat, yépov. 
zi Snr eya odyi Todde Tod PdBov ao, ava, 
> 4 ¥ > 3 4 
éreimep evvous HAOov, eEedvedpnv ; 
A A mA > *# > 4 , > a 
kal pv Xxapw y av afiav kdBous pov. 
Kal pyv pauota TovT adiKopyny, OWS 
lanl ‘ , > , > , / 
cov mpos Sdpous EAOdvTos ed mpd&atpi Te. 
> > ¥ 3 > ” , / t ue “A 
GAN’ ovmoT Eipe Tols HuTEVTAaciV y Opov. 
@ Tat, Kah@s el OHdos ovdK eldas Ti Spas. 
a > , X a (8 , 
TOS, ® yepate; pds Gedy Sidacké pe. 

> “A 4 4 > > +” lal 
ei TOVOE Hevyeis OUvER’ Eis OlKOUS pole. 
tapBav ye py wou PoiBos e€€On cTadys. 
> \ 4 fal , , 
pH placpa Tov dutevoavtwv haBys; 

a > > , , lal ra > > ‘ Lal 
TOUT avTdo, mpea Bu, TOUTS pw Eloaet HoBet. 
a> an \ , OX , 
dp otcOa djra mpos dixns ovdéev Tpépav; 
mas 8 ovxt, mais y’ el TaVdE yevvyntar edur ; 
OOovver’ Hv oor IdAvBos ovdev ev yéver. 
Tas eitas; ov yap IlddkuBos é&épuceé pe; 
ov paddov ovdév Todde Tavdpds, aX’ ixov. 

\ ~ ec 4 > Y A“ Fg 
Kal Tas O piaas €€ ioov TO poeri; 
> > ¥ ee 4 > y > 3 lal ¥y > 3 4 
GX’ ov o éyelvaT ovT EeKEivos OUT eyo. 
> 7-3 ‘ lal A lal , + eae , 

GAN’ avr Tod 5 Twatda p ovopdlero; 


99° 


995 


I000 


1005 


IoIo 


1015 


1020 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 


ME. What woman is the cause of all these fears ? 
OE. Merope, sir, that dwelt with Polybus. 
ME. What find you both to fear in Merope? 
OE. An oracle from the gods, most terrible. 
ME. May it be told, or did the gods forbid ? 
Or. No, you may hear. Phoebus hath said that I 
Must come to know my mother’s body, come 
To shed with my own hand my father’s blood. 
Therefore have I put Corinth this long time 
Far from me. Fortune has been kind, and yet 
To see a parent’s face is best of all. 
ME. Was this the fear that drove you from your home? 
OE. This, and my will never to slay my father. 
ME. Then since I came only to serve you well, 
Why should I hesitate to end that fear? 
Or. Ah! If you could, you should not miss your thanks! 
ME. Ah! That was my chief thought in coming here, 
To do myself some good on your return. 
OE. No, where my parents are, I’ll not return! 
ME. Son, I can see, you know not what you do. 


OE. ’Fore God, what mean you, sir? Say what you know. 


ME. If this be all that frightens you from home !— 
OE. All? ’Tis the fear Apollo may prove true— 
ME. And you polluted, and your parents wronged ? 
OE. Aye, it is that, good man! Always that fear! 
ME. Can you not see the folly of such thoughts ? 
OE. Folly? Why folly, since I am their son? 

ME. Because King Polybus was nought to you! 
Or. How now? The father that begot me, nought? 
ME. No more, no less, than I who speak to you! 
Or. How should my father rank with nought—with you? 
Me. He never was your father, nor am I. 

OE. His reason, then, for calling me his son? 


63 


64 


AT. 
Ol. 
AT, 
Ol. 
AT. 
OI. 
AT. 
Ol. 
AT. 
Ol. 
AP. 
Ol. 
AT. 
OI. 
AY. 
Ol. 
AY. 
Ol. 
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AY. 
Ol. 
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OI. 
AY. 
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XO. 


Ol. 


ZOPOKAEOY2 


lal , 5 ¥ lal 5 “~ Lal , 
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SP €@®993 3 3 ¥ ‘ ¥ , 

Ka.0 GO am adds XELPOS exteptev peya ; 
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n yap mp adbrov éférero amra.oia. 

‘\ 5 > 4 x 4 > > led bid 
ov 8 éutoljnocas—i TEeKoV p avT@ Oidws ; 
evpav varraias é€v KiWarpavos mrvyats. 

e 4, ‘ ‘\ , 4 5 ‘ , 
wdourdpers 5€ mpds Ti ToVTSE TOUS TOTOUS ; 
evTavl dpeious Troupvious émeararour. 
‘\ ‘\ Ss >.’ / , 
Tony yap noba Kami Onreia mravns; 
cov 8, & TéKvoV, TWTHP YE TH TOT Ev ypova. 
, ne ¥ >. 52 “ , 
ti addyos toxovr év kaxots pe LapBavers ; 
modav av apOpa paptupHoeey TA od. 
olpor, Ti TOUT apxatoy évvéTeEts KaKOD ; 
vw o° Exovta Siardpous rodotv axpds. 
Sewdv y’ oveidos orapydvey aveopnv. 
’ $¥5 , > , , a > 
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a od "d x 
@ mpos Gear, mpos pytpos, H tatpds; ppdcov. 
> sO? ¢c ‘ \ a > 9 a ip lal 
ovK 010: 6 Sods Se TavT’ Euov A@ov dpovei. 
> ‘ 2) oF 7» 29> ee , 
yap wap addov p’ €daBes odd’ adros TuXor; 
oUK, GANA Trouuny adAdos Exdidwat por. 
tis otros; 7 KdtoLoOa Snacat oye ; 

a Ah , . , 

tav Aatov dymov tis @vopdlero. 
Lg “A al al 
TOU Tupavvov THAdE yHs TahaL ToTE; 

, , > x & > , 
padiora: Tovtov tavdpds obtos Hv Bornp. 
> ¥ > »¥ a a y 30 A Jerse 
n KaoT eT. Cwv ovTOs, WoT idelv eye; 

c Lal > 3 > ass J 4 
bpeis y’ apror eideir’ Gv ovmix@ptoL. 
» a A 
EOTLY TLS UAV TOV TAapEeTTOTaV Teas 
9 4 ‘ ee pe > A 
Oats KdtoWe Tov BoTHp bv évvéres, 
_( > lal 
€lT ovv én aypav eEite KAVOGS cioOar ; 
, & e € x e A #3) 
onpnval’, was 0 Katpos nupnabar Tdde. 
> lal 
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a > , A 
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oN a i>. > 9 7k > , 7 
40 Gy T40 ovy HnKLoT av loKaoTn héyot. 
yuvat, voeis Exeivoy ovTw’ aptiws 


1025 


1030 


1035 


1040 


1045 


1050 


OIAITOY2 TYPANNOS 


ME. You were a gift. He had you from these arms. 
OE. He gave that great love to a stranger’s child ? 
ME. Because he had none of his own to love. 

OE. So. Did you buy this child,—or was it yours ? 

ME. I found you where Cithaeron’s valleys wind. 

Ok. Our Theban hills! What made you travel here? 

ME. Once on these very hills I kept my flocks. 

Or. A shepherd? Travelling to earn your wages? 

ME. Yes, but your saviour too, my son, that day! 

OE. What ailed me, that you found me in distress? 

ME. Ask your own feet. They best can answer that. 

OE. No, no! Why name that old familiar hurt ? 

ME. I set you free. Your feet were pinned together ! 

Oe. A brand of shame, alas! from infancy ! 

ME. And from that fortune comes the name you bear. 

OE. Who named me? Who? Father or mother? Speak! 

ME. I know not. He that gave you to me—may! 

Ok. You found me not? You had me from another? 

ME. Another shepherd bade me take you. True. 

Or. What shepherd? Can you tell me? Do you know? 

ME. I think they called him one of Laius’ people. 

OE. Laius? The same that once was King in Thebes? 

ME. Aye. ’Twas the same. For him he shepherded. 

Ok. Ah! Could I find him? Is he still alive? 

ME. You best can tell, you, natives of the place! 

Or. Has any man here present knowledge of 
The shepherd he describes? Has any seen, 

Or here or in the pastures, such an one? 
Speak! ’Tis the time for full discovery ! 

CH. I think, my lord, he means that countryman 
Whose presence you desired. But there is none, 
Perchance, can tell you better than the Queen. 

Or. You heard him, wife. Think you he means the man 


S. 


65 


oTp. 


10. 
Ol. 
IO. 
Ol. 
10. 
Ol. 
10. 
Ol. 
10. 
Ol. 
10. 


XO. 


Ol. 


XO. 


ZTOPOKAEOYS 


podetv éepieper Oa; Tdvd’ obros hEyer; 
al ‘ \ 
ri & évrw etre; pndev évrparys. Ta de 
a 4 
pnOérta Bovdov pydé pepvqa Bar parny. 

> * / vA 9 > \ X ‘ 
obk dv yévoito Tove’, Gras éyw haBwv 
onpeia ToLavT ov hava Tovpor yEvos. 

~~ nw nr , 
pr mpos Oeav, elmep Te TOV cavTod Biov 

la , Af’. 9 ape See , 
KHdEL, paTEevaNS TOVD* Adis VoTOVT eye. 
Odpoe: ov pev yap ovd éav tpirns eyo 

‘ a 7 > “A 4 
pytpos pava tpidovdos expaver Kaky. 
Spas 70d por, Nocona: pw Spa rade. 

> a» 0 oe \ > ‘o > 6 ~ “A 

ovk av riBoipny py ov Ta expabeiy capas. 

\ N Pe at ea ee ‘ A , d , 

Kal pyv ppovovaa y €v Ta KwoTa Tot heyo. 
. a , A. 4 2 9 , , 

Ta A\@oTa TolvUY TavTa p adyvver Tahal. 

- 4 > ¥ 4 , a > 

@ Svorotp, ele pyrore yvoins Os el. 

a&er tis E\Oav Sevpo Tov Borhpa pou; 

tavtnv 8 éare movi xaipew yeve.. 

iod iov, S¥aTHVE: TOTO yap o exw 

, A ¥ > »¥” 9 
povov mpoceitretv, GANo 8 ovo” varreEpor. 

, , iat c mT ee 4 
ti mote BEBynKev, Oidizous, im’ aypias 
aé X , e. am 8 8 o 2 
gEaoa urns H yuvyn; Sédory’ dws 
pn K THS TLomHs THOS avappyEa Kakd. 
6rrova xpyle pyyvitw: Tovpov 8 eye, 

Kel opiKpov ott, oépp dev Bovlyoopat. 
avtn 8 tows, ppovel yap ws yuvh péya, 
Thy Svoyéveray THY eunv aicyvverar. 

r iets * Ss > ‘ A an , , 

eyo 0 euavrov raida THs Toys vepov 

a 9 
THS ED SiWovens ovK atipacOncopan. 

“~ ‘ A 
THS yap wépuKa pytpds* ot S€ ovyyeveis 
pnves we puxpov kal péyay Siopicav. 
touade 8 exdds ovk dv €€€\Ooww’ ere 

> LAX vd OF rf] a Jere , 
mot aAhos, wate pn “Kpabeiv Todpov yevos. 


7 > ‘ 4 2 ‘ ‘ , ¥' 
ElTEp €y@ pavTis eit Kal KaTa yvopar opis, 


> X ¥ 
2 ov Tov ‘Ohuprov azeipwr, 


1055 


1060 


1065 


L070 


1075 


1080 


1085 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


OE. 


Jo. 


CH. 


OE. 


CH. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 67 


Whom we await already? Was it he? 
What matter what he means? Oh, take no heed, 
And waste no thoughts, I beg you, on such tales. 
For me it is not possible—to hold 
Such clues as these, and leave my secret so. 
No! By the gods, no; leave it, if you care 
For your own life. I suffer. "Tis enough. 
Take heart. Your noble blood is safe, although 
J prove thrice bastard, and three times a slave! 
Yet, I beseech you, yield, and ask no more. 
I cannot yield my right to know the truth. 
And yet I speak—I think—but for your good. 
And this same good, I find, grows tedious. 
Alas! I pray you may not know yourself. 
Go, someone, fetch the herdsman! Let the Queen 
Enjoy her pride in her fine family! 
O Wretched, Wretched utterly! That name 
I give you, and henceforth no other name! 

Why went the Queen so swiftly, Oedipus, 
As by some anguish moved? Alas! I fear 
Lest from that silence something ill break forth. 

Break what break will! My will shall be to see 
My origin however mean! For her, 
She is a woman, proud, and woman’s pride 
Likes not perhaps a husband humbly got! 

I am Luck’s child. Deeming myself her son, 
I shall not be disowned. She lavishes 
Good gifts upon me, she’s my nature’s mother ! 
Her moons, my cousins, watched my littleness 
Wax and grow great. I[’ll not deny my nature 
But be myself and prove my origin. 

To-morrow brings full moon! 
All hail, Cithaeron! Hail! 


68 


OI. 


ZTOPOKAEOY2 


3 @ KiBaipov, odK ever Tay avpLov 1090 
/ ‘ > ld ‘ / Ode 

4 mavoéhnvor, pr) ov oé ye Kal TaTpio@Tay Oldirour 

‘ \ ‘ 4 3 ¥ 
5 Kal Tpodov kal parép avgew, 

‘ , ‘ ¢ aA € oh 4 a 
6 Kal yopever Oar mpds Huav, ws eri Apa pepovta Tots 

€mots TUpavrois. 

“7 Lal Cal 5 + 

7 inte DoiBe, wot Sé radT apéor Ely. 
4 , / > ¥ lal , >” 8 
Tis o€, TEKVOV, Tis O ETLKTE TAY MAKPALMVaY apa 109 

2 Ilavos é6pecouBara a- 1100 

‘ agen J a» / > > "5 , 
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“~ a“ / 
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5 0 6 KvAXavas avaoowr, 1104 
4? ¢ A x , | eS > , y 

6 ei?’ 6 Baxyetos eds vaiwy é7 akpwv opéwv evpnpa 

défar &x Tov 

nw e lal 

Nupdav “EXixkovider, als mretora cvpraicer. 


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ld “a ‘ a 93 €£ lal a 

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ovTrep maar Cnrodpev. ev TE Yap HaKp@ 

, 4 “ > \ , 

yup Evvdder THOSE TAVOpL TUppeT pos, 

GANws TE TOUS GyovTas WaTeEpP oiKETAS 

€yvok éuavtov: Ty 8 éemiatynpn ov pov 1115 
¥ 43> A A ® > A 4 

Tpovxois TAX’ av Tov, Tov Bornp idav mapos. 


XO. éyvwoxa yap, odd’ ict: Aatov yap nv 


Ol. 


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y »” + c ‘A > , 

elTep TLS GANOS TLOTOS WS VOMEVS aVNp. 
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o€ TPAT EpwTa, Tov KopivOov Eévor. 

> , S , a Y > a 

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ovTos ov, mpéaBv, Sedpd por adver Bérov 

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7, Soddos odK wYNTSs, GAN’ olkor Tpadeis. 
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OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 


If there be wit in me, or any prophet-power, 
To-morrow bringeth thee 
Fresh glory. Oedipus the King 
Shall sing thy praise and call thee his! 
His mother and his nurse ! 
All Thebes shall dance to thee, and hymn thy hill, 
Because it is well-pleasing to the King. 


Apollo, hear us! Be this thing thy pleasure too! 


Who is thy mother, child ? 
Is it a maid, perchance, 
Of that fair family that grows not old with years, 
Embraced upon the hills 
By roving Pan? Or else a bride 
Of Loxias, who loveth well 
All upland pasturage ? 
Did Hermes, or that dweller on the hills, 
Bacchus, from one of Helicon’s bright Nymphs, 


His chosen playmates, take the child for his delight ? 


OE. 


CH. 


OE. 


ME. 


OE. 


OE. 


HE. 


If I may guess—I never met the man— 
I think, good friends, yonder I see the herd 
Whom we so long have sought. His many years 
Confirm it, for they tally with the years 
Of this our other witness ; and the guides 
I know for men of mine. Can you, perchance, 
Be certain? You have seen, and know the man. 
Indeed I know him. Laius trusted him, 
Though but a shepherd, more than other men. 
This question first to you, Corinthian :— 
Is this the man you mean? 

Aye, this is he. 

Look hither, sir, and answer everything 
That I shall ask. Were you once Laius’ man? 


HERDSMAN. 
I was, a house-bred servant, no bought slave! 
What was your work? What was your way of life ? 
The chief part of my life I kept the flocks. 


7O 


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OE. 
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ZOPOKAEOYS 


¥ 
xapois pakiora mpos ticw Eivavdos wv ; 
/, , 
Hv pev Kibaipav, nv S€ mporxwpos TOTS. 
“~ 4 
tov avSpa tévd odv otaba THS€é Tov paler; 
a a lal ¥ ‘ 
ri xphpa Spavra; rotor dvdpa Kat déyets ; 
, , 
révd’ bs mapeotw'—h EvvaddAd€£as Ti 7a ; 
ta) Y 
ovy wate y’ eimely ev TaxXeL LYNENS UTO. 
al ‘ la 
Kovoev ye Oadpa, S€amoT’: adN eyo adds 
> a> 3 4 > \ is” 9 
ayvar avapviow vw. ev yap oid OTL 
, 8 ‘a ‘ 0 A / 
KaTooev Huos TOV KiParp@vos Témov— 
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e€ pos eis dpKToUpoV ExuHvous xpovous: 
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xeava 8 on Tapa 7 els emavd eyo 
¥ @ 2 > > ‘ of / 
nravuvov obtds T els TA Aatov orabud. 
héyw Ti ToUTwY, } OV héyw TETpAypLEeVOr ; 
héyers ddnOy, Kaimrep ex pakpov xpdvov. 
t gi > A lal 463 > “~ , 4 
dep eime viv, T67 clo Oa maida pot Tia 
8 e. e > “~ 0 4, 0 , > , 
ovs, as euavTo Opéupa Opeainny eyo ; 
ti 8 €at1; mpos ti TovTO ToUTOS iaTopEts ; 
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> > A > , ¥ 
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> ‘ aN , , § > ‘ \ \ 
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Setrar KokacTov paddov 7 TA TOUS Ey. 
, 8 7, , 5 lal e , 
TL8, @ hépiote SeomoTav, apapTave ; 
ovK evvétv Tov Tad bv OvTOS LoTOpEl. 
‘ lal 
héyer yap cidas oder, GAN’ addws Tver. 
‘ ‘ ld A > > A id > 3 al 
ov Tpos Xap pev OvK Epets, KNaiwy 8 épeis. 
‘\ nw na 
py Snra, mpds Pedy, Tov yépovTa pw’ aixion. 
> ¢ lal 
OvX WS TAXOS Tis TOVD arooTpEreL Xepas ; 
4 > ‘\ la ~ 
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»¥ a 
edwx’* dhéobar § adhedov 775° Hpyepa. 
> > > 4M Og 
add’ eis 740" HEELS pur) AEywv ye TovvS.Kov. 


1130 


1135 


I140 


1145 


1150 


II55 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 


OE. Which were the regions where you camped the most ? 
HE..Cithaeron—or sometimes the country round. 
OE. Ah, then you know this man? You saw him there? 
HE. I saw him? Saw him when? What man, my lord? 
OE. Yonder !—Did nothing ever pass between you ? 
HE. No—speaking out of hand, from memory. 
ME. Small wonder he forgets! Come, I’!l remind 
His ignorance, my lord. I make no doubt 
He knows that once around Cithaeron’s hills 
He tended his two flocks—I had but one— 
Yet served for company three summer-times, 
The six long months from spring to autumn nights. 
And when at last the winter came, I drove 
Down to my farm, and he to Laius’ folds. 
Was it so done as I have said, or no? 
HE. ’Tis very long ago. Yes, it is true. 
ME. Now tell me this :—You know you gave me once 
A boy, to rear him as a child of mine? 
HE. What do you mean? Why do you ask me? 
ME. Why? 
Because, my friend, that child is now your King! 
HE. A curse upon you! Silence! Hold your peace. 
Ok. No, no! You must not chide him, sir! ’Tis you 
That should be chid, not he, for speaking so. 
HE. Nay, good my master, what is my offence? 
Of. This : that you answer nothing—of the child. 
HE. Tis nothing. He knows nothing. ’Tis but talk. 
OE. You will not speak to please me? Pain shall make you! 
HE. No! By the gods, hurt me not! I am old. 
OE. Come, one of you. Quick! Fasten back his arms! 
HE. O Wretched, Wretched! Why? What would you know? 
OE. Did you, or did you not, give him the child? 
HE. I gave it him. Would I had died that day. 
OE. This day you shall, unless you speak the truth. 


OTp. a. 


72 


OE. 
Ol. 
OE. 
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lal > ¥ / 
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4 
nov pev ovK éywy’, edeEdpnv S€ Tov. 
Tivos TohiTOy TMVSE KaK TOtas OTEyNS; 

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pH Tpods Gear, yy, Séa7rof’, taroper Téov. 
»¥ ¥ C ee Bey | , ud 
Ododas, Eb OE TAUT EpHoopar Tadu. 

a +2 
Tov Aatov Toivuy Tis HY yerynpatov. 

lal ‘ 
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olmot, mpos aiT@ y’ eipl To Sew@ héyew. 

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Toiwyv; OE. Ktevely vw Tovs TeKovTas HV hoyos. 


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lov tov: Ta TavT av e&yKor cad7. 
S nw lanl 
@ pas, TeXevTAldv oe TpoTBréape Vor, 


9 A 
cots Téepacpar pis T ad av od xpHv, dv ois 7 


> nA ¢ a 9 eet FAP edEN , 
ov xpnv Opiraov, OUS TE fA OVUK €dEL KTQVOV. 


>A \ lal 
iw yeveat Bporar, 


8 Tis yap, Tis avip mhéov 
4 Tas evdaipovias hépet 

5  To~ovTOv Gcov SoKetv 
6 kal Sd€avr’ amrokNiva; 


1160 


1165 


1170 


I1t75 


1180 


1185 


1190 


HE. 
OE. 


OIAITOYE TYPANNOS 73 


Alas! And if I speak, ’tis worse, far worse. 
Ah! So the fellow means to trifle with us! 


HE. No, No! I have confessed I gave it him. 


OE. 
HE. 
OE. 
HE. 
OE. 
HE. 
OE. 
HE. 


OE. 
HE. 


OE. 
HE. 
OE. 
HE. 
OE. 
HE. 
OE. 
HE. 
OE. 
HE. 


OE. 


CH. 


How came you by it? Was the child your own? 
No, ’twas not mine. Another gave it me. 
Another ? Who, and of what house in Thebes ? 
Nay, for the gods’ love, Master, ask no more. 
Make me repeat my question, and you die! 

The answer is :—a child of Laius’ house. 

Slave born? Or kinsman to the royal blood ? 
Alas! 

So it has come, the thing I dread to tell. 

The thing I dread to hear. Yet I must hear it. 
Thus then :—they said ’twas...Laius’ son....And yet 
Perhaps Jocasta best can answer that. 

Jocasta gave it you? 


She gave it me. 
For what? 
She bade me do away with it. 
Its mother! Could she? 


Fearing prophecies— 
What prophecies ? 
His father he must kill! 
And yet you let this old man take him? Why? 

*Twas pity, sir. I thought: he dwells afar, 
And takes him to some distant home. But he 
Saved him to suffer! If you are the child 
He saith, no man is more unfortunate. 

Alas! It comes! It comes! And all is true! 
Light! Let me look my last on thee, for I 
Stand naked now. Shamefully was I born: 

In shame I wedded: to my shame I slew. 


Ah! Generations of mankind! 
Living, I count your life as nothingness. 
None hath more of happiness, 
None that mortal is, than this: 

But to seem to be, and then, 
Having seemed, to fail. 


orp. PB’. 


avr. B. 


74 


ZOPOKAEOY2 


~ 


. , , > ¥ 
TOV GOV TOL Tapaoevy ph EX@V, 


@ 


Tov adv Saipova, Tov adv, @ TAapov Oidurdda, Bpotav 
ovdev paxapilo: 1196 


© 


dots Ka? drepBodav 
a , ¥ 
2 trofevoas exparnoe Tod mavT Evdaipovos OABov, 
8 @ Zed, xara pev dbioas 
‘ 4 la 
4 Tav yapovuxa trapOévov 
5 xpnop@ddr, Oavdrav & éug 1200 
6 xdpa TUpyos avéoTa: 
7 €€ ot Kal Bacidreds Kader 
lal “4 > 
8 eos Kal TA péytor ériyudOys, Tais meyadavow €v 
9 OnBaow avacowr. 
tavov & akovew tis dOAuwTEpos ; 1204 
ld ¥ > , 4 > 4 
2 Tis aTaLs aypias, Tis ev Tdvots 
8 Eivouxos dddaya Biov; 
4 id Kkdewov Oidimou kdpa, 
@ 4 ‘ 
5 @ péyas hunv | 1208 
ee ¥ 
6 avTos NpKEoeV 
7 Ta.ot Kal matpt Oarapnmodw wecetv, 
nm “~ “A , 
8 TMs Tote THS TOF ai TaTp@ai a aroKkes PépEL, TAaAaS, 
ON 5s ee ¢ > / ; 
9 aty euvdbnoav és Toadve€ ; 
edevpé o axovl 6 mav dpav xpdvos: «1213 
4 ‘ »¥ , , 
2 Suxdler Tov dyapov ydpov mahau 
lal \ 4 
3 TEKVOUVTG KQL TEKVOUMEVOD. 1215 
4i@ Aalecov <@> TéKvor, 
5 ele o ele oe 
/ > > ld 
6 pymoT eiddmar. 
8 4 ‘ Y 27 / 
7 d¥popan yap pi.) iddewov Yewv 
8 €k fhe caidasch 70 8 sole eizelv, averrvevoa T ex oébev 
9 Kai KaTekoiunoa TOUPLOV Ona. 1222 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 75 


Thine, O unhappy Oedipus, . 
Thine is the fatal destiny, 


That bids me call no mortal creature blest. 


Zeus! To the very height of wit 
He shot, and won the prize of perfect life; 
Conqueror that slew the maid, 
Who, with crooked claw and tongue 
Riddling, brought us death, when he 
Rose and gave us life, 
That day it was that hailed thee King, 
Preferred above mankind in state 
And honour, Master of the Might of Thebes. 


To-day, alas! no tale so sad as thine! 
No man whom changing life hath lodged 
So close with Hell, and all her plagues, and all her sorrowing! 
Woe for the Fame of Oedipus! 
For the Son hath lain where the Father lay, 
And the bride of one is the bride of both. 
How could the field that the father sowed endure him 
So silently so long? 


Time knoweth all. Spite of thy purposing, 
Time hath discovered thee, to judge 
The monstrous mating that defiled the father through the son. 
Woe for the babe that Laius got. 
And I would I never had looked on thee, 
And the songs I sing are a dirge for thee. 
This is the end of the matter: he that saved me, 


Hath made me desolate. 


76 


ZOPOKAEOYS 


EEATTEAOS. 

2 A , aA : Mes , 
@ yns peyiota THATS Gael TYL@pevot, 

o -» ( oe 4 > @ Pa > td ? 9 Ss 
of épy’ dxovaerO’, ota 8 eioower, ovov 

> “A la ¥ 3 “ ¥ 
dpetabe révOos, eirep Eyyevas ETL 

a 4 > Pp 8 , . 
Tov AaBdaxeiwv evtpérer be Swparor. 

a 
olpas yap ovr’ av "Iotpov ovte Pacw av 
virba kabappe tTHvde THY OTeynV, Ooa 

PEE THVOE Ti Yn" 
~ lal ‘ 
Kevler, TAO avtix’ eis TO Pas havel Kaka 
ExOVTG, KOUK akovTa. Tav dé mnpovev 
4 ip J a A.D 3 la 
pddiora AvTovG ai davao avOaiperor. 
yy 
eirer pev odd a rpdcbev ydeev 7d pH Ov 
4 > t 5 ‘ ~*~ 3 / a , 
Bapiorov’ civar: mpods 8 exeivorrw ti dys; 
6 pev TdxLOTOS TOV Adywr eEitreEtv Te Kal 
A , A s , , 
pabeiv, réOvnke Oeiov *loxdorns Kdpa. 
S 4 \ 4 > ees 
® Svotd\aiva, mpos Tivos ToT airias; 


a ® \ os “ de bé, ‘ A 
avuTY 7pos QAvUTyS. TWV OE T pax EVTWMV TA Bev 


¥ > »¥ e 4 ¥ > , 
ahyloT amet’ 7 yap ois ov Tapa. 
dpws 8, door ye Kav euol pyynpns er, 

4 ‘ 4 > , ld 
mevoe TA Keivns AOdias TaOHpara. 

OTws yap dpyn xponern tapyO érw 
Oupavos, ter’ evOD pds TA vUpduKa 
heyy, Kopnv o7do audide€ious dxpats: 

, 5 te + ee , 2» 
mvhas 8, Guas cian’, emippdgao’ érw 
~~ Q ¥ fee 4 , 
kahet Tov 46n Adiov mdadau vexpor, 

, A , ¥ > esos @ 
Pynpny Tahaov oTeppdtwv exova’, vd’ ov 
Oavor pev adtds, rHv S€ tikrovoeav Alrou 

“~ e lal 
TOs Oia avTod S¥aTEKVoY TaLdoupyiar. 

“ Pa t 4, ¥ 4 Les 
yoato 0 evvas, evOa S¥aTHVos SudoOvs 
2€ > 8 X » 8 ‘ / o” 2 , / 
e€ avopos avdpa Kal Téxv’ éx Téxvwv TEKOL. 

9 al 
Xarws pev €K TOVD ovKET O10 Gardd\vTAL* 
lal A 
Boav yap eicéraioev Oidizous, id’ of 
> <4 \ , > , 4 
OUK HY 70 Kelvns exDedoacbar KaKdr, 
> D > > ~ le ee , 
GAN’ Els Exetvov TEpiTodOUVT ehevoooper. 


1225 


1230 


1235 


1240 


1245 


1250 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 


MESSENGER FROM THE PALACE. 


Great Lords, that keep the dignities of Thebes, 
What doings must ye hear, what sights must see, 
And oh! what grief must bear, if ye are true 
To Cadmus and the breed of Labdacus! 

Can Ister or can Phasis wash this house— 

I trow not—, with their waters, from the guilt 
It hides.... Yet soon shall publish to the light 
Fresh, not unpurposed evil. ’Tis the woe 


That we ourselves have compassed, hurts the most. 
. That which we knew already, was enough 


For lamentation. What have you besides? 


. This is the briefest tale for me to tell, 


For you to hear:—your Queen Jocasta’s dead. 


. Alas! Poor lady! Dead! What was the cause? 


She died by her own hand. Of what befel 
The worst is not for you, who saw it not. 
Yet shall you hear, so much as memory 
Remains in me, the sad Queen’s tragedy. 
When in her passionate agony she passed 
Beyond those portals, straight to her bridal-room 
She ran, and ever tore her hair the while; 
Clashed fast the doors behind her; and within, 
Cried to her husband Laius in the grave, 
With mention of that seed whereby he sowed 
Death for himself, and left to her a son 
To get on her fresh children, shamefully. 
So wept she for her bridal’s double woe, 
Husband of husband got, and child of child. 
And after that—I know not how—she died. 
We could not mark her sorrows to the end, 
For, with a shout, Oedipus broke on us, 
And all had eyes for him. Hither he rushed 


77 


78 


ZOPOKAEOYS 


Poura yap nas eyxos e€arrav trope, 
aA “a 7 ¢ 
yuvaika 7 ov yuvaika, untpdav 8 dmov 
lal ‘\ 
kixou Sutdnv apoupay ov Te Kal TEKVMY. 
Avocavtt 8 aire Saydvov Seixvect Tis° 
> ‘ ‘ > 8 lal a lal > 50 
ovdels yap avdpar ot mapnpev eyyvber. 
Sewov 8 dvoas, as VdnyyTod Twos, 
mvdats Surdais evyhar’* éx dé tub never 
¥ a A > , , 
Exdive Kotha K\pOpa Kapminre oTéyn. 
ob 57 Kpepacrny Thy yuvatk’ éoeidoper, 
TEKTALT WW aldpaLow ewreTrEypEV yy. 
a 4 
6 8 ws dpa vu, Sewa Bpvynbeis rddas 
XAG KpepacrHny aprdvynv. émet dé yn 
ExeiTo TAHpwr, Seva & Hv TavOEvd’ Spar. 
ATOTTATAS Yap ElLaTwV xpvonAGdToUS 
ld > > > Lal eS > / 
Tepovas amr avTns, alow é€€eorédXeTO, 
dpas, €mavoev apOpa Tay avTov KUKhor, 
> lal Amy * £ 4 > > »¥ 4 
avdav Tovadl’, 6ovver’ ovK dYouvTd vw 
¥spP a » ¥mp ¢ a> » , 
ov? of eracyev ov rot’ edpa Kakd, 
> ? 2 , \ \ a \ > ¥ 
GAN’ Ev TKOTH TO AouTTOV OVs ev OUK EdEL 
> 7 a ee: > , 
dpoial’, ods 8 eypylev ov yrwooiaro. 
a9 9 A , > 9 
TOLAUT Epupvav TohddKis TE KOVKX aTra€ 


npaco éraipwr Brépapa: doiviar § éuov 


lal ld > »¥ 33 9...7 
yAnvas yéver’ ereyyov, ovd dviewar 


ld 4 "4 bd 3 2 Lal la 
pdvov prddcas orayovas, add’ duod pédas 


»¥ 4 € “A <3 

op Bpos xadlys aiparods éréyyero.... 
748 x Svolv Eppwyev ov pdvov Kara, 

> > \3 ‘ ‘ \ “~ 4 

aN’ avdpt Kat yuvaikl ouppryh Kaka. 

6 mpl Tadaos 8 d\Bos Hv mapobe prev 

¥ lal Lal 

OABos Sixaiws: viv dé rnd Onpepa 

orevaypos, an, Odvatos, aicxvvyn, KaKav 

9 > 3» ‘\ 4, > ld > > g > a; 1m / 

00 €OTL TaVTWY OvomaT, OVdeY ear azTOP. 


XO. viv 8 €o 6 rryjpwv &v tut TXohH KaKod; 
EE. Bog dwiyew kdjOpa Kai Sndrodv twa 


1255 


1260 


1265 


1270 


1275 


1280 


1285 


CH. 
ME. 


OIAITOY2 TYPANNOS 


And thither. For a sword he begged, and cried: 
‘Where is that wife that mothered in one womb 
Her husband and his children! Show her me! 
No wife of mine!’ As thus he raged, some god— 
"Twas none of us—guided him where she lay. 
And he, as guided, with a terrible shout, 
Leapt at her double door; free of the bolts 
Burst back the yielding bar,—and was within. 
And there we saw Jocasta. By a noose 
Of swaying cords, caught and entwined, she hung. 
He too has seen her—with a moaning cry 
Looses the hanging trap, and on the ground 
Has laid her. Then—Oh, sight most terrible !— 
He snatched the golden brooches from the queen, 
With which her robe was fastened, lifted them, 
And struck. Deep to the very founts of sight 
He smote, and vowed those eyes no more should see 
The wrongs he suffered, and the wrong he did. 
‘Henceforth, he cried, ‘be dark!—since ye have seen 
Whom ye should ne’er have seen, and never knew 
Them that I longed to find. So chanted he, 
And raised the pins again, and yet again, 
And every time struck home. Blood from the eyes 
Sprinkled his beard, and still fresh clammy drops 
Welled in a shower unceasing, nay, a storm 
With blood for rain, and hail of clotting gore. 
So from these twain hath evil broken; so 
Are wife and husband mingled in one woe. 
Justly their ancient happiness was known 
For happiness indeed; and lo! to-day— 
Tears and Disasters, Death and Shame, and all 
The Ills the world hath names for—all are here. 
And hath he found some respite now from pain? 
He shouts, and bids open the doors, and show 


79 


Koppds. 


oTp. a. 


80 LTOPOKAEOY2 


Tots mao. KaSpelour Tov TaTpoKTovor, 
‘ 4, > Lat > 4 > > a ft 4 
Tov pntpds—avoav avdov ovde pyTa Lor— 
e > ‘ ing < , >7Q> ¥ 
ds éx xOovds piipov éavtdv, od8' Ere 
pevav Sdpois apaios, as npdcaro. 
pops ye pevtou Kal mponyntod Twos 
Setrau’ To yap voonpa petlov Hh pepe. 
Seifer 5 Kal cot: K\pOpa yap mudhav Tdde 
, S , tee oe , 
Swoiyerar’ Odapa & eiooper taxa 
TOLOVTOV OLov Kal OTUVYOUVT emoLKTio‘at. 
XO. & Sewov iSeiv afos avOparross, 
> , 4 sh) Bey 
@ Seworatov TavTwV OF eyw 
ld > ¥ , > td na 
mpooexupa on. Tis o, w TANMOY, 
mpoceBn pavia; Tis 6 mndjoas 
peilova Saipwv TOV maKioTwr 
mpos of Svodaiporr polpg; 
hed hed, SVaTavos. 
GAN oS éoideiv Sivapai o°, 0édov 
TON avepéc Oar, Toda TvPEc Ha, 
moka & abpnoar’ 
Toiav ppikny TapeXets OL. 
Ol. aiat, hed dev, SvaTavos eye, 
Tot yas pépopat TAGpwv; 7a por 
hOoyya Siarwrarar popddnp ; 
iw Satpov, Ww’ e&pdov. 
XO. és Sewdv, 008 axoveror, od émrdyipov. 


OI. 1 ia oKdTov 


4 Di A > 4 
2 vépos €uov amdtpotor, émumhdouevov adaror, 
> , , 
3 dddpatov Te Kat Sucovpiatov < dv. > 
4 olpou, 
¥ y\> 4 
5 olor war avOis* otov eioddu pw apa 
, a > ¥ lal 
6 KévTpwy Te TOVD OloTPHLG Kal pYnLN KAKOP. 
xo TK \ a) Peo ey > yOe > a 8 4 
. 7 Kat Oadpa y’ obdey &v tocotcde mHpacww 
8 durka oe TevOel kai Sutra dépew Kad. 


1290 


1295 


1300 


1305 


1310 


1315 


1320 


CH. 


OE. 


CH. 
OE. 


CH. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOS 81 


To all his Thebes this father-murderer, 
This mother—Leave the word. It is not clean. 
He would be gone from Thebes, nor stay to see 
His home accurséd by the curse he swore; 
Yet hath he not the strength. He needs a guide, 
Seeing his griefs are more than man can bear. 

Nay, he himself will show you. Look! The gates 
Fall open, and the sight that you shall see 
Is such that even hate must pity it. 


O sight for all the world to see 
Most terrible! O suffering 
Of all mine eyes have seen most terrible! 
Alas! What Fury came on thee? 
What evil Spirit, from afar, 
O Oedipus! O wretched! 
Leapt on thee, to destroy? 


I cannot even Alas! look 

Upon thy face, though much I have 

To ask of thee, and much to hear, 
Aye, and to see—I cannot! 
Such terror is in thee! 


Alas! O Wretched! Whither go 
My steps? My voice? It seems to float 
Far, far away from me. 
Alas! Curse of my Life, how far 
Thy leap hath carried thee! 
To sorrows none can bear to see or hear. 


Ah! The cloud! 
Visitor unspeakable! Darkness upon me horrible! 
Unconquerable! Cloud that may not ever pass away! 
Alas! 
And yet again, alas! How deep they stab— 
These throbbing pains, and all those memories. 
Where such afflictions are, I marvel not, 
If soul and body make one doubled woe. 


Ss. 6 


> , 
avT. a. 


orp. BP. 


avr. f. 


82 


ZOPOKAEOYS 


OI.1i@ diros, 


2 ov pev Enos emimodos Ere povisos* ETL yap 
3 Uropevers pe TOV TUPAdY KNdedwr. 

4 hed ev: 

5 ov yap pe AjOes, ddA yryvpdoKkw cahas, 
6 KaLTEp OKOTEWOS, THY ye OHV avdnY Opus. 


X0.70 Sewd Spacas, ras Erdys ToLadTa was 


»” nr , 7,2 A , 
8 ders papavar; Tis o emnpe Satpdvar ; 


OI.1’Awdddwv 7a8’ Hv, Amoddwr, Hidor, 


¢ ‘ ‘ or ot ee 4Q2 3 4 
26 KaKG Kaka TeAov eua TAO ena aed. 
¥ > > / ¥ 3 91D , 
3 eraioe © avTdyxeip viv ovTis, GAN’ eyw Tha por. 
47i yap ede p par, 
9 a eo de > is A nN vA 
5 OTM Y OpavT. pyndev HV Welw yruKU ; 


XO. 6 Hv Ta0? GtwcTEp Kat od Ps. 
OI.77i Sy7° ewot Brerrov, H 


8 OTEPKTOV, 7) TpoaHyopov 

9ér éoT aKovew Hdova, pido; 

10 dadyeT exTOmLov OTL TAXLOTE Ee, 

ll dadyer’, @ pidrot, Tov péy’ dd€Opror, 
12 Tov KaTapaTorator, ert S€ Kai Oeois 


13 €xOpérarov Bporar. 


XO. 14 Seihare TOU vod THS TE TvVpdHopas icor, 


16 as © HOE\noa pydé dvayvavat Tore. 


OI.16d08 doris Hv ds aypias médas 


2 tvopdd’t émumodias €dva’ dard te ddvov 

3 €ppuTo Kavécwo€ p’, ovdev eis Yapw Tpdoowr. 
4 76T€ yap av Oavev 

5 ovK Hv diroow ovd euol Trordvd’ axos. 


XO. 6 Oédovte Kapol rodr’ ay Hv. 


OI. 7 0vKovv tarpds y’ av dhoveds 


8 HADov, ode vupdios 
9 Bpotots éxhyjOnv av dur aro. 


1325 


1330 


1335 


1340 


1345 


1350 


1355 


OE. 


CH. 


OE. 


CH. 
OE. 


CH. 


OE. 


CH. 
OE. 


OIAINOYS TYPANNOS 83 


Ah! My friend! 
Still remains thy friendship. Still thine is the help that 
comforts me, 
And kindness, that can look upon these dreadful eyes un- 
changed. 
Ah me! 
My friend, I feel thy presence. Though mine eyes 
Be darkened, yet I hear thy voice, and know. 
Oh, dreadful deed! How wert thou steeled to quench 
Thy vision thus? What Spirit came on thee? 


Apollo! ’Twas Apollo, friends, 
Willed the evil, willed, and brought the agony to pass! 
And yet the hand that struck was mine, mine only, 
wretched. 
Why should I see, whose eyes 
Had no more any good to look upon? 
*Twas even as thou sayest. 
Aye. For me.—Nothing is left for sight, 
Nor anything to love: 
Nor shall the sound of greetings any more 
Fall pleasant on my ear. 
Away! Away! Out of the land, away! 
Banishment, Banishment! Fatal am I, accursed, 
And the hate on me, as on no man else, of the gods! 
Unhappy in thy fortune and the wit 
That shows it thee. Would thou hadst never known. 


A curse upon the hand that loosed 
In the wilderness the cruel fetters of my feet, 
Rescued me, gave me life. Ah! Cruel was his pity, 
Since, had I died, so much 
I had not harmed myself and all I love. 
Aye, even so ’twere better. 
Aye, for life never had led me then 
To shed my father’s blood; 
Men had not called me husband of the wife 
That bore me in the womb. 


84 ZTOPOKAEOYS 


a Q A 
10 viv 8 aeos per cip’, dvooiwy S€ Tais, 
, 
11 6poyerns & ad’ dv adrds epuv Tadas. 
lal / 
12 ef S€ Te wpeaBvrEpov ETL KAKOU KaKO?, 
18 todT €dax’ Oidizrovs. 
XO. 14 0dk 088 drws ae dO BeBovdredoar Kaas: 
> af x A , 
15 Kpetoowr yap 4o0a pnkér av 7) Cav Tuddos. 
¥ > > 
OI. as pév Tad’ ody WS Ear’ apioT elpyaopeva, 
> ¥ 
pH p éexdidacke, wnde ovpBovdev’ ert. 
€y@ yap ovK 010 6upacw toto Brérwv 
~ 9 , 
matépa mot av mpocetoor eis “Avdov poder, 
ovd ad Tddawar pntép, olv enol Svoww 
epy €oti kpelooorv’ ayyxovns eipyaopeva. 
a > 
adn’ 7 téxveav SHT’ dius Hv epipepos, 
Bdacrovo’ draws €Bdaote, tporhedooew pot; 
ov Onta Tois y euotow ddbahpots ote: 
7Q> ¥ > > - 4 > \ / 
0vd aot y’, ovde TUpyos, ovde Sarpdvev 
> , > ¢ , a € la > ‘ 
ayahpal iepd, TaV 6 TavThyper eye 
Kdd\iot avnp els ev ye Tats OnBais Tpadeis 
amTeaTépno euavTov, avTos évverwv 
> oy ~ \ > A X > A 
adeiv dravras Tov aoeBn, Tov éx Oedv 
paverT avayvov Kai—yévous Tov Aatov. 
4, > > ‘ ~ , > \ 
Touavd ey@ Kndida pnviccas ena 
> A ¥ ¥ , ¢ a 
dpOois EwehdAov dupa TovToVs Spay; - 
¥4 Cee > 2-3 lal > , ¥ > @ 
HKLoTa y* GAN EL THS GkOVOVENS ET HV 
lal 2, 
mys Sv atwv dpaypds, ok av éoxdunv 
x ‘ > Lal 5 i ¥ 4 
TO py amroK\joa Toupov aOdLov S€uas, 
| EP , ‘ , , \ x 
WwW 4 Tuprds Te Kal Kdwv pndév* 7d yap 
\ 47Q> ¥ Lal al > “~ 4 
Tv ppovtid’ wm Tdv KakOv oixely yhukv. 
i KiBarpav, ti p’ ed€xov; Tip ov AaBav 
. > , e ¥' / 
extewvas evOUs, ws EderEa pyrore 
> ‘ > , ¥ > 4 
ewavtov avOpdrovow evbev 7 yeyos ; 
> 
w TlodvBe nai Képwe cal ra rarpia 
Ss 
hoyo Twahad Sdépal’, ofov dpa pe 


1360 


1365 


1370 


1375 


1380 


1385 


1390 


1395 


CH. 


OE. 


OIAITIOYS TYPANNOS 85 


But now—but now.—Godless am I, the son 
Born of impurity, mate of my father’s bed, 
And if worse there be, I am Oedipus! It is mine! 
In this I know not how to call thee wise, 
For better wert thou dead than living—blind. 
Nay, give me no more counsel. Bid me not 
Believe my deed, thus done, is not well done. 
I know ’tis well. When I had passed the grave, 
How could those eyes have met my father’s gaze, 
Or my unhappy mother’s—since on both 
I have done wrongs beyond all other wrong? — 
Or live and see my children ?—Children born 


_As they were born! What pleasure in that sight ? 


None for these eyes of mine, for ever, none. 

Nor in the sight of Thebes, her castles, shrines 

And images of the gods, whereof, alas ! 

I robbed myself—myself, I spoke that word, 

I that she bred and nurtured, I her prince, 

And bade her thrust the sinner out, the man 

Proved of the gods polluted—Laius’ son. 

When such a stain by my own evidence 

Was on me, could I raise my eyes to them ? 

No! Had I means to stop my ears, and choke 

The wells of sound, I had not held my hand, 

But closed my body like a prison-house 

To hearing as to sight. Sweet for the mind 

To dwell withdrawn, where troubles could not come. 
Cithaeron! Ah, why didst thou welcome me? 

Why, when thou hadst me there, didst thou not kill, 

Never to show the world myself—my birth! 
O Polybus, and Corinth, and the home 


Men. called my father’s ancient house, what sores 


86 


XO. 


OI. 


KP. 


ZOPOKAEOY2 


Kaos KAK@V Urovdov e&eOpepare. 

vov yap kakés 7 Ov kak KaKOv evploKopat. 
@ tpels KéhevOor kal Kexpuppevy vary 

Spupds te kal orevwmds év TpiThats dots, 

ai Tovpov alua TOV euav XELp@v azo 

émiere TaTpos, dpa pov mépvyno GE 71, 

ot épya Spdcas dyiv eira Sedp’ iav 

6mrot érpaccov adlis; @ ydpor ydpou, 

édical nas, Kal putevoavTes ahw 

Gveire TAVTOD oTeppa, KamredeiEare 

matépas, dde\povs, maidas, atu’ eupvduov, 

vippas yuvatkas pntépas TE, KoTOTS. 

atoxior év avOpatrowrw Epya yiyvetat. 


Gd’ ov yap avdav eof a nde Spav Kahov, 


9 Ud ‘\ lal ¥ / 
OTws TaxLoTA Tpos Yewv EEw pe Tov 
Kadvpat,  povevoat, 7) Oatdoovov 
> , > ¥ ld > > , po 
expipar’, ev0a pnmoT eicoperO ert. 
ir, a€idoar avdpos aOdiov Ovyeiv: 
, ‘ , é ap Prong, ‘ 
Tieo Oe, pi) Seionre’ Tapa yap Kaka 
> ‘\ La ‘ > “ la lal 
ovdels ofds Te TAHV Euov Hépew Bpotar. 
> > @ > ~ > 8 ‘s 4 2 Af) 
ahd wy erauTets és O€ov Taped OdE 
Kpéwv 70 mpaooew Kat Td Bovdevew, rei 
4 / Le > ‘\ a“ , 
xapas hédevrTar povvos avti cov Pvda€. 
¥ 2 “ td ‘ 4 > ¥ 
oipo., Ti Snra A€Eopev mpods TéVvd’ Eros ; 
Tis pou davetras miotis evduKos; TA yap 
Tdapos Tpos avTov mavT edevpnpat Kakds. 
ovx ws yedaoTys, Oidizrous, eA7pjArvOa, 
ovd’ ws dvedidv TL TOY Tapos KAKOP.... 
> > > \ lal ‘\ 4 > ¥ 
GAN’ et Ta Ovntav pH Kataoxvver OH ere 
, ‘\ la) , / / 
yevebha, thy your ravra BooKkovaay prdoya 
id “ 7 ¥ € NM / S° ¥ 
awevol avaktos HAtov, Tovwovd ayos 
akdAvTTov ovTw Sexvbvar, TO UATE yh 


pyr ouBpos tepds pyre dds mpoodééerau. 


1400 


1405 


1410 


1415 


1420 


1425 


CH. 


OE. 


CR. 


OIAITTOYS TYPANNOS 87 


Festered beneath that beauty that ye reared, 
Discovered now, sin out of sin begot. 

O ye three roads, O secret mountain-glen, 
Trees, and a pathway narrowed to the place 
Where met the three, do you remember me? 

I gave you blood to drink, my father’s blood, 
And so my own! Do you remember that ? 
The deed I wrought for you? Then, how I passed 
Hither to other deeds? 

O Marriage-bed 
That gave me birth, and, having borne me, gave 
Fresh children to your seed, and showed the world 
Father, son, brother, mingled and confused, 
Bride, mother, wife in one, and all the shame 
Of deeds the foulest ever known to man. 

No. Silence for a deed so ill to do 

Is better. Therefore lead me hence, away ! 

To hide me or to kill. Or to the sea 

Cast me, where you shall look on me no more. 
Come! Deign to touch me, though I am a man 
Accurséd. Yield! Fear nothing! Mine are woes 
That no man else, but I alone, must bear. 

Nay, for your prayer, look! in good season comes 
Creon, for act or counsel. In your place 
He stands, the sole protector of the land. 

Alas! What words have I for him? What plea 
That I can justify ? Since all the past 
Stands proved, and shows me only false to him. 

I come not, Oedipus, in mockery, 

Nor with reproach for evils that are past.— 

Nay, if ye have no reverence for man, 

Have ye no shame before our Lord the Sun, 
Who feeds the world with light, to show unveiled 
A thing polluted so, that neither Earth 

Nor Light nor Heaven’s rain may welcome it. 


88 


Ol. 


RP. 


OI. 


KP. 


Ol. 


Oe 


Ol. 


KP. 
OI. 


ZOPOKAEOY2 


GAN ws TaxioT és olkov eoxopilerte: 

nw Lal > nw 
Tots ev yéver yap Tayyen partic? dpav 
povos T aKovew evoeBas Exe KaKd. 

\ A > / 3 / ® 3S , 
Tpos Oeav, éreimep edtridos p amréotracas, 
¥ > \ X 4 ¥ 8 > > # 
apiortos e\Oav mpdos KaKiotov avdp’ epué, 


a 4 a nw la so: 3 ~ 4 
mov Ti our mpos Gov yap, odd’ éwod, dpdow. 


‘ a ld & “ a 
Kal TOU pe ypetas WOE Aurapets TUYXELD ; 
ean s A 3 lal Ss 4 / 0 ha 
pupov pe yns €k THAD ocor Taxa, omrov 
an n \ 
Ovntav davovpar pndevos mpoonyopos. 
x5 ar > a2 — ¥ > \ A ra) A 
€dpao’ Gv ev rout to@ av, ei 7 TOV Oeod 
mpatict expynlov éxpabetv Ti mpaxréov. 
GAN’ yy’ exeivou ac” ednhabn paris, 
‘ , BS > “ es 4 
TOV TatpopovTyny, TOV aaeBH pw amroddvvat. 
9 WN 2 asp 9 > \ fet ENT. 7 
ovtws Eh€xOn Tav0’- cpuws 8, iv’ eorapev 
Xpélas, dpewov expaletv ti Spacréov. 
4 = ek ‘ > / 4 A 
ovTws ap avdpos aOdiov revoeo trep; 
Kal yap od viv Tav TO Deo tiatw dépors. 
Kai col y émuokynTw Te Kal TpooTpepoman, 
“A \ > ¥ - SP | a , tA 
THS MEV KaT olKkovs autos dv Oédeus TAdov 
ov: Kai yap op0as Tav ye ov Tedeis brep* 
€nov S€ pyror’ afwOyrw 7dd€ 
a » a a 
Tatpwov aatu Cavros oikynrod TuxeEl, 
> > »¥ 4 »¥ Y¥ , 
GAN’ €a pe valew dpeow, &vOa Krylerar 
€ \ A ® aA 4 la 
ovpos Kifaipaov obros, dv pytnp Té por 
, > > 4 a“ 4 / 
twatnp tT €béaOnv Cavre Kipiov Tador, 
93 
w é€ éxeivav, ot pw dmwdddrnr, Odveo. 
"dé lal 
Kaito. TomouTOv y olda, wyATE p av voor 
| gd LAX la 8 a > ‘ »* 
byt ahho twépoat pndée* ov yap av more 
4 a“ nw 
OvycKkor eo dOnv, wh mri ro Seve KaKd. 
> > ¢€ lal “A 
ahd ) pév Hudy poip’, moumep eto’, trw’ 
maidor S€ rav pev apoé } Kpé 
€ Tov pev apoévav uy mor, Kpéor, 
be. la 
tpoo Oy pépivav: dvBpes ciaiv, dorre ju) 
4 A Lal ¥ » > n , 
onavw tote cxew, vl av wow, Tov Biov: 


1430 


1435 


1440 


1445 


1450 


1455 


1460 


OE. 


CR. 


OIAITOY2 TYPANNOS 


Stay not. Convey him quickly to his home: 
Save his own kindred, none should see nor hear— 
So piety enjoins—a kinsman’s woe. 

Ah, since thou hast belied my thought and come 
As noblest among men to me, so vile, 
Grant me one boon, for thine own weal, not mine. 
What is thy prayer? What boon can I bestow? 


OE. Cast me from Thebes, aye, cast me quickly forth 


CR. 
OE. 
CR. 


OE. 
Cr. 


_ OE. 


Where none may see, and no man speak with me. 
This had I done, be sure, save that I first 
Would ask the god what thing is right to do. 
His word was published, and ’twas plain :—‘ Destroy 
The guilty one, the parricide !’—’tis I! 
So runs the word: and yet, to ask the god 
For guidance in such utter need is best. 
What? Will you ask for one so lost as 1? 
Surely, and you will now believe the god. 
Aye, and on thee I lay this charge, this prayer : 
For her that is within make burial 
As pleaseth thee. ’Tis fitting. She is thine. 
For me, ah! never doom this land of Thebes, 
My father’s town, to harbour me alive. 
Leave me to haunt the mountains, where the name 
Is known of my Cithaeron—proper tomb 
By mother and by father set apart 
For me, their living child. So let me die 
Their victim still that would have slain me there. 
And yet this much I know. There is no hurt 
Nor sickness that can end me. Since from death 
I lived, it was to finish some strange woe.... 
So let my Fortune, where it goeth, go! 
But for my children, Creon,—for the sons 
Think not at all. Men are they; anywhere 
Can live, and find sufficiency for life. 


KP. 


Ol. 


ZTOPOKAEOY2 


tow © dOdiaw oixrpaty Te tapBévow enair, 
oly ovo? nun xwpis éotdOn Bopas 

lal 7 ‘ 
tpdmel? avev TOUS avdpds, add’ dowry éya 
Wavount, TavTWY THVO GEL pETELYXETHY® 

‘ an 
oly pou pérerOar* Kai padiora ev YEporv 
watvoai pw’ €acov Katokhatvoac bat Kakd. 
iO ava€, 
»¥ = a i* Piccsds 0 \ 
if & yovn yevvate. yepot Tav Ovyov 
n~ > »¥ wa c >» 
Soxoip’ exew odas, domep Hvix EBeror. 
4 , 

Tt pnp ; 
ov 51) KAvw Tov pds Ded Tov por hidow 
Saxpuppoovytow, Kai p éroukteipas Kpéwv 
¥ 4 ‘ / : Ae) / > “A 
Erepapé ro. Ta hidtat exydvow éepow ; 
héyw 71; 
héyeis: eya yap eiu’ 6 Topavvas TdAbe, 
yvovs THY Tapovaay TépYsw, 4 oO elyev Tada. 
> > > 4 la fal lal c lal 
GAN’ evTvXOINs, Kal oe THASE THS 6500 
Saipwv duewov 7} "ue Ppovpyaoas TvyxoL. 

24 4 a) > > , na >¥>s » 

@ Tékva, TOU ToT éaTé; Sevp’ it’, EhOere 
e ‘ 3 \ : 4 ‘ > ‘ la 
ws Tas adeApas Tdade TAS euas x€pas, 

a A ca) X 2s #O2 ¢ A 
al TOU duToupyov TaTpos vpiv Wd Spay 
Ta rpdobe Kapmpa tpovéernoay dupara: 
a to 4 > , > + e A ¥ c a 
Os vply, w TéKY’, OV par OVF iotopav 
\ > 4, ¥ Sth" > / 
marnp epavOnv evOev adros HpdOnv. 

\ ‘ 4 4 ‘\ > £ 
Kat of@ Saxptw: tpooBrérew yap ov abéva: 
voovpevos Ta outa TOD miKpod Biov, 

® lal ‘ \ > , U4 
olov Bidvat ofa pds avOparrav xpewv. 

, ‘ > “ 9 > > c , 

To.as yap aotav n&er eis dpstdias, 

, 9 8 , ¥ > / 
troias © é€oprds, evOev ov Kexhavpéevar 
mpos oixov ikea O avti THs Oewpias ; 
tA’ c 7>#K on, ‘\ "é 4 > 3 4 
aA nvik av dn Tpos yapwv yKNT aKpds, 

hide 
Tis oUTOS EoTat, Tis Tapappirpel, TéKVa, 
A 9 is id , a “a > “A 
TovavT ovelon LayBdver, a Tots ewots 


1465 


1470 


1475 


1480 


1485 


1490 


CR. 


OE. 


OIAITOYS TYPANNOZS 


But for my poor sad daughters, that dear pair 
That never found my table spread apart 


From them, nor missed their comrade, but must share 


Always the very food their father had : 

Be all your care for them. Oh! Best of all, 

Let me but touch them, and so weep my full. 

Grant it, my prince, 

O noble spirit, grant it. But one touch, 

And I could think them mine, as when I saw. 

Ah! What is this? 

That sound? Oh, can it be? Are these my loves, 

Weeping? Has Creon pitied me, and fetched 

The children of my dearest love to me? 

Can it be true? 

*Tis true: ’twas I so ordered it. I knew 

The joy thou hadst in them. ’Tis with thee still. 
Be happy, and for treading this good way 

A kinder fate than mine defend thy steps. 

Children where are you? Come. Ah, come to me! 

These arms that wait you are your brother’s arms, 

Their kindness bade these eyes that were so bright, 

Your father’s eyes, to see as now they see, 

Because ’tis known, my children, ignorant 

And blind, your father sowed where he was got. 
For you I weep, for you. I have not strength 

To see you, only thoughts of all the life 

That waits you in the cruel world of men. 

No gathering of Thebes, no festival 

That you shall visit, but shall send you home 

With tears, instead of happy holiday. 

And when you come to marriage-days, ah! then 

Who will be found to wed you? Who so brave 

Will shoulder such reproach of shame as I | 


92 


KP. 


Ol. 
Ol. 


OI. 


Ol. 


Ol. 


Ol. 


ZOPOKAEOYS 


yovedaow éeorar opav F buod Sydjpara ; 
Ti yap KaKav ameotl; Tov TaTépa TaTHp 
bpav eredve’ Tv TeKovcay Hpocer, 

d0ev ep aves eomdpy, KaK TOV Low 
extynoal tas avirep avros é&épu. 
ToadT dveduetobe> Kata Tis yapel; 

ovK €oTw ovdeis, @ TéKV’, GAAd Snrady 
xepaous PUapyvar kaydpous vuas xpewr. 
@ Tat Mevoukéws, add’ eel povos TaTnp 
TovTow édeupar, vo yap, @ puTevoaper, 
dA\@Aapev OV GvTE, py ThE TEPLiONS 
TTWXAS avavdpous eyyevels dhopevas, 
pnd eEiodons taade Tols €ols KaKkots. 
GAN’ oikricdv adas, GE THALKAGS Gpav 
TAVTWV EpHmous, TAHV GTOV TO Tov pEpos. 
Livvevooy, @ yevvate, on bavoas xepl. 


oper 8, & Tékv’, ci pev eixerny dyn ppevas, 
4, > *# 4 “~ \ “a > ¥ , 
TOAN Gv Tapyvouv: viv dé TodT’ evxecOE p01, 


ov Katpos ae Lav; Biov dé A\dovos 
vpas Kupnoa Tov puTevaavTos TaTpds. 


dus wy é&yxes Saxptov: add’ 10 oréyns evo. 


1495 


1500 


1595 


1510 


1515 


TELOTEOY, Kei uNdev NOV. KP. mdvta yap Kaip@ Kahd. 
> 
ola éd’ ois ody eur; KP. dé€eus, Kai Tor eloopar 


Krvov. 


Ys m Orws wéurbers drovxov. KP. rod Oeod p’ airets 


Sdow. 


Gdda Oeots y €yAaros yew. KP. tovyapooy revéer 


Taxa. 


ons Tao ov; KP, 4 HH Ppov@ yap ov Piro héyew 


parnp. 


» 1520 


¥ /, uA > A “~ 
amaye vuv m evTevdev 4dn. KP. oreixé vuv, TéKVoV 


8 aod. 


CR. 
OE. 
CR. 
OE. 
CR. 
OE. 
CR. 
OE. 
CR. 
OE. 
CR. 
OE. 
CR. 


OIAITOY2 TYPANNOS 


Put on my parents, and must leave with you ? 
Is any woe left out? Your father killed 
His father, took the mother of his life 
And sowed the seed on her, begetting you 
From the same womb whereof himself was born. 
This your reproach must be. Lives there a man, 
Children, to wed you? None, alas! ’Tis plain: 
Unwedded and unfruitful must you die. 

Son of Menoeceus, thou art left to them, 
Their only father now, for we, their own, 
Who gave them life, are dead. Suffer not these, 
That are thy kin, beggared and husbandless 
To wander, laid as low as I am laid. 
Have pity on them. See how young they are, 
And, save for thy good part, all desolate. 
Promise me, loyal friend. Give me thy hand 
In token of it. Children, out of much 
I might have told you, could you understand, 
Take this one counsel: be your prayer to live, 
Where fortune’s modest measure is, a life 
That shall be better than your father’s was. 


It is enough! Go in! Shed no more tears, but go! 


I would not, yet must yield. 


Measure in all is best. 


Know you the pledge I crave? 


Speak it, and I shall know. 


This :—that you banish me! 


That is the god’s to give. 


The gods reject me! 


93 


Then, perchance, you shad/ have banishment. 


You promise? 


Knowing not, ’tis not my wont to speak. 


Then take me, take me, hence! 


Come! Quit your children. Come! 


94 
Ol. 


XO 


ZOPOKAEOY= 


pndapads tatvras y’ Edn pov. KP. wdvra pr) Boddov 
Kparetv* 
\ ‘ ¢ 4 A Led ld 4 
Kal yap akpatnoas ov cor T@ Bip Evvéorero. 


7. y 

® TaTpas OnBys evoixor, evaoer’, Oidizrous d8e, 

a ‘ Aa ee NERD > ‘ / > > 

Os Ta Kely’ aiviypar’ Oe Kal KpaTLOTOS HY GYHp, 1525 
@ 4 > 4 lal lal 4 > l4 

ov Tis ov Cydw TodiTav Tats TUXYaLs éréBheTer, 

eis Ooov Krdvdwva Sewys cvppopas edjndvber, 

9 \ »” te / ‘ ld > a“ 

wote Oyyntov ov’ éxeivny Thy TedXevTaLiay idety 

e , > lal a3 23 , 2 aA 

nuepav emurKkotrouvTa pndey 6dBilew, mpiv av 

tépua Tov Biov Trepdoyn pndev adyewov wabdv. — 1530 


OE. 
CR. 


CH. 


OIAITOY2 TYPANNOS 95 


No! No! You shall not. 


Ah! Seek not the mastery 
In all. Too brief, alas! have proved your masteries. 


Look, ye who dwell in Thebes. This man was Oedipus. 
That Mighty King, who knew the riddle’s mystery, 
Whom all the city envied, Fortune’s favourite. 

Behold, in the event, the storm of his calamities, 
And, being mortal, think on that last day of death, 
Which all must see, and speak of no man’s happiness 
Till, without sorrow, he hath passed the goal of life. 





NOTES 


1. The first words, 6 réxva, characterise Oedipus as the good king: 
Hom. Od. 11 47 watyp § ws qrws. The reference to Cadmus adds strength 
to the tenderness, reminding the Thebans of their brave origin, and appeal- 
ing for courage in the name of the heroic ancestor. Tpodé7—the ‘abstract 
for the concrete,’ as the grammarians say—is again tender in effect, and 
suggests that Cadmus still cares for his people. This double effect of 
tenderness and strength is developed throughout the paragraph. réxva, in 
line 6, repeats the tenderness : the proud name of Oedipus, in line 8, re- 
peats the effect of the appeal to the name of Cadmus. So in line 11 Setoavtes 
is gentle, orepéavres stimulating. 

The Septem opens with a similar appeal from Eteocles, in which the 
note of tenderness is not heard: the encouraging words ‘Citizens of 
Cadmus’ are duly stressed by repetition, ‘to the city of the Cadmeians,’ 
at the end of the paragraph. See my remarks in Class. Quarterly, Vol. v1 
April, 1913, p. 73 ff. (esp. p. 77 ff.). 

The audience knows, though Oedipus does not know, that the King 
himself is ‘nurtured of the race of Cadmus.’ That tragic fact is stressed. 
by the irony of re@paypevor in line 97. 

2. Even if we reject the ancient tradition that @oafew sometimes: 
means ‘to sit’ (see Jebb’s very wise Appendix, p. 206), the order of the 
sentence stresses €dpas, and implies that the supplication is formal. The 
formal tone of the next line, moreover, altogether excludes the panic-- 
stricken rout which Prof. Reinhardt invented and Prof. Murray approved.. 
The opening scene is quiet, in order that we may appreciate Oedipus. A_ 
plague-stricken city (1) organises solemn supplication to the gods and a. 
deputation to the King, and (2) is liable, of course, to sudden outbursts. 
of panic. The second effect is reserved for the excitement of a choral ode. 
The effect of the formal supplication to Oedipus is to throw into relief his. 
greatness and to suggest to the audience his danger. It is perilous to be 
honoured ‘almost as a god.’ 

6. Another stock trait of the good King. Deioces, once so accessible 
and popular, when he became a tyrant (Hdt. 1 97 ff.), ‘established the 
etiquette (xdocpov révde mpdrtds éott 6 KataoTnTdpevos, ch. 9g), that none 
should go in to the King, but he should do all his business by messengers, 
and that the King should be seen by none.’ Cf Thuc. 1 130 (Pausanias,, 
when his head was turned by success, ‘made himself inaccessible’). 


Ss. Ys 


98 | NOTES 


Similarly ‘the good general must see the enemy for himself, not merely 
by the eyes of messengers’ (Eur. Heracleid. 390). 

8. His name is 6 waox xAewwds Oidérovs, just as the name of Rhada- 
manthus (Plato Zaws 624 B) was ‘the Just Rhadamanthus.’ The proud 
name is thus stressed by Oedipus to encourage the people. In the rhe- 
torical arrangement it corresponds to ‘Cadmus’ in line 1. The psycho- 
logical effect is: ‘ Remember Cadmus and be strong ...and remember that 
I, Oedipus, am with you.’ But the words imply also the great confidence 
of Oedipus in himself. 

11. The scholiast’s ‘Either from fear of chastisement or because you 
have suffered wrong,’ implies, not that he read orégavres, but that he 
wrongly took orépfavres to mean ‘having suffered,’ practically Seva 
mabdvres. oré€avtes is here nonsense. tive tpdrw and xabéorare go closely 
together, and the participles explain ri tpérw. The meaning is not 
‘With what fear or desire do you stand here?’ but ‘In what mood are 
you come—fear or good courage?’ The effect of Seicavres 7 orépEavtes 
is recalled at line 89 by the similar pair, ovre Opacds ovr’ ovy mpodeicas. 
The editors try to force orépgavres to mean ‘desiring.’ Jebb refers to 
O.C. 1093. But analysis of that passage will show that the context and 
the order of the words—to say nothing of the fact that the tone is lyrical 
and excited—destroy the force of the alleged parallel. We have there, 
first, a prayer to Zeus and Athene, Zed...7épois: then, when we hear kai 
Tov dypevtav “A7dAAw...c7épyw the word orépyw means simply ‘I pay 
loving homage to...’ like orépyw 3 oupara eBots in Aesch. Zum. 970: 
finally, by a sudden shift of grammar and emotion, only possible because 
we have already had the prayer to Zeus, an infinitive is added. When 
we hear the infinitive, it is as if orépyw had meant ‘I entreat’—but that 
does not imply that Sophocles could have written, e.g. pode ve orépyw 
in the sense of ‘I entreat thee to come.’ 

The natural interpretation of orépéavres, then, is here ‘having steeled 
yourselves to endure.’ The argument that ‘the question of Oedipus’ is, 
on that interpretation, ‘unnecessary’ because ‘Oedipus does not suppose 
that they are resigned’ or because ‘those who are resigned have no 
ground for supplication,’ is sufficiently answered by Isocrates mpds 
Anpovixov 8b, orepye pev 74 wapdvra, Cyre dé 7a BéAtwoera. Of course 
Oedipus knows they are miserably afraid: he tries to make them coura- 
geous by asking them whether they have come in a mood ‘of fear or of 
brave endurance?’ An actor will pause a little before the word orépéavres. 
For the importance of this appeal see Introduction, pp. xx, Ixxii: the 
reminiscence in O.C. 7 strengthens the argument from language and 
from common-sense. 

16. An ingenious theory which makes two classes of suppliants, old 


NOTES 99 


men, and youths between the ages of fourteen and eighteen 7¢0, explains 
‘not yet able to fly far’ as an allusion to the fact that such youths are not 
yet full citizens. I think however that the contrast is between the weight 
of years and the weakness of childhood. The deputation is composed of 
children, youths and old men. 

‘Your altars’: the phrase is, of course, immediately understood as 
equivalent to ‘the altars that stand before your house’; the image and 
altar of Apollo before the palace doors have a special significance for our 
tragedy. But the words are chosen by the poet as a hint for the audience 
of the situation which is more plainly stated at line 31. Oedipus is so 
great that he is approached almost as a god. 

18. The priest of Zeus is not selected by the poet without a tragic 
design. His words éAX’ 3 xparivwv are later addressed by the chorus to 
the one true King of sure title and eternal power. See 903 note. Great 
use is made in tragedy, not least in our play, of the fact that earthly Kings 
derive authority from Zeus and of the contrast which that fact suggests. 
I will mention here, as a noble example, the chorus of Aesch. Ag. 309 ff.: 
from diOpdvov Adbev...tiyzs éxvpdv (42), we pass to "ArdAAwv 7) Tay 7 
Zevs (55), thence to the greater Zeus—éévios Zevs (61), and so, at last, 
after hearing of the sign of the eagles oiwvav BaowWeds Bacrredou vedv 
x.7.A. (113), we come to the great appeal of line 160 Zeds doris zor’ 
éotiv.... 

20. The shrines which are chosen for mention are not chosen at 
random. Our imagination is presently to be stirred by the appeals of 
the chorus (159 ff.), to Artemis, ‘throned in the market-place,’ to 
Pallas Athene, and to Apollo, who gives the oracle at the Ismenian 
altar. Pallas was worshipped at Thebes, but, as Jebb remarks, the effect 
of mentioning her ‘two shrines’ is poignant for Athenian ears. In the 
choral ode she reappears as daughter of Zeus: but as the ode proceeds 
she yields place to Zeus himself. Artemis is appropriate mainly as sister 
of Apollo. Finally, in the ode, to crown the splendour, Dionysus, who is 
not yet, like the others, in our thoughts, is suddenly added. 

22. ‘For the city...’: the beauty of the composition depends partly 
on the fact that the form of the King’s address is recalled. He began 
with Cadmus, then spoke of the city’s prayer and lamentation, then ended 
his first period with the appeal of his own great name. The priest answers 
in the reverse order: Oedipus comes first. ‘King Master of my country...’: 
the middle term is again the city: then the reference to Cadmus is taken 
up with the words ‘the house of Cadmus is being emptied and Hades 
made rich...with tears.’ . 

23-24. The metaphor which treats a city as a ship is familiar to us 
from Alcaeus and Horace: but Sophocles, by using it here, develops in 


Fone h | 


100 NOTES 


a characteristic way his allusion to the Septem of Aeschylus, in which this 
image is a recurrent motif. See note on line rt. 

25. The blight on (1) crops, (2) births of cattle and women is normal 
(Hdt. 11 65, v1 139). The lyrical formula at line 171 exactly corresponds. 
Thucydides alludes to the traditional combination of blight and pestilence 
in his phrase (11 54) ‘they were grievously afflicted—men in the city dying, 
the land outside the city suffering devastation’ (sc. at the hand of the 
enemy, not by supernatural blight). There is nothing in the description 
of blight or pestilence which can be used as a good argument for the 
date of the play. Similar expressions to those of Sophocles are used 
indeed by Thucydides, but it would have been strange if Thucydides 
had avoided, ¢.g., such obvious words as éyxaracxjwat (11 47 3), ovre yap 
iatpot npxovy (11 47 4, Gf. O.T: line 12) or the references to supplications 
and to oracles. If we knew that our play was subsequent to the famous 
plague, we should recall with interest the fact that Delphi was supposed 
to have had a share in producing the Athenian calamity (11 54). But we 
do not know. The analogy, like the analogy which has been noticed 
between Oedipus and Pericles, is significant of the general Athenian 
point of view. More we cannot assert. 

27. The burning heat gives its name to fever (zruperés) in Greek, and 
besides, pestilence spreads and rages like a fire. There is nothing difficult, 
therefore, in the expression ‘Fire-bringing God’ for Pestilence. But the 
vivid phrase has great value for the sequel. See notes on 166, 186, 200, 
470. Because of its striking development the phrase is important enough 
to be recalled in the Oedipus at Colonus. There (lines 55 ff.) every epithet 
links Colonus with the ‘Kindly Goddesses’ who are to give Oedipus rest. 
That is why Poseidon is called ceuvés, since the goddesses are the cepvai. 
Similarly Prometheus, an ancient earth power like the Eumenides, is 
called Tirav. He is also called 6 rupdopos Oeds, and so the place of the 
devastating god of fiery plague and vengeance has been taken by another 
god of fire—but of kindly civilising fire. Eur. Phoen. 687 alludes to 
the treatment which this theme receives in the choruses of our play. 

31-45. These lines form the second paragraph of the speech. The 
proverbial couplet at the end marks a pause. The form is carefully 
balanced, falling into three divisions :—first, ‘We approach you, not as a 
god, but as the first of men, both in ordinary human chances and in 
matters in which the gods specially intervene’; then, ‘Because you are 
said and thought to have saved us without any human aid, but by your 
own wit and the help of the gods’; thirdly, ‘As then, so now, since you 
are greatest in the eyes of all men, we ask you to help us, by any means 
you can find, by aid of god or man.’ Then the whole is rounded off by 
the proverb ‘Old hands are best.’ 


NOTES IOI 


The mechanical symmetry which some scholars have sought to 
establish by making all paragraphs contain the same number of lines 
does not often exist. But it remains true that these three divisions, 
consisting of four, five, and four lines respectively, are very carefully 
arranged. 

31. Aristotle, in discussing Kingship (Po/. I’ 13 13 1284 a), makes 
a remark which, we shall find, is worth remembering: ‘If any person or 
persons be so far above everyone else in excellence...that the excellence 
and political ability of all the rest put together is not comparable to the 
excellence of such persons...we must not class such persons as part of a 
state. It will be an injustice to give them the same treatment as ordinary 
men...A man like this should be regarded as really a god among men.’ 
The point is that the idea of such a man existing is too remote to be 
worth considering by the statesman. 

The statement of the priest is actually pious and cautious but, for the 
audience, such words crown the greatness of Oedipus and point out his 
danger. To be honoured almost as a god is the lot of the happiest Kings: 
the temptation of happy Kings is to consider themselves more than 
mortal, and to accept honours properly reserved for the gods. That is 
the sin of Agamemnon, when he walks on the purple tapestries. It is the 
sin against which Pindar continually warns his patrons. We shall see 
how Sophocles has applied the familiar idea. 

33-34- The use of ovydopais and cvvaddayais illustrates a char- 
acteristic of the language of Sophocles very important but not generally 
appreciated. ovpudopd, though it properly means ‘an event,’ is more often 
used for a ‘disastrous event’; and cvvadAayy, though its form makes it 
quite easy to use it in the sense of ‘traffic’ ‘intercourse,’ also often means 
in Sophocles a ‘visitation’ of evil. Its common prose meaning ‘reconcilia- 
tion’ is not here thought of. The old priest means ‘In the common 
affairs of life and in those more important events in which the hand of 
the gods is more clearly seen.’ But, for the audience, who know the 
sequel, there is a hint in the words that ‘Oedipus is first in disasters and 
in divinely wrought calamities.’ If you examine carefully all the so-called 
abusiones of Sophocles (see ¢.g. Kugler de Soph. guae vocantur abusionibus) 
you will find that nearly always the normal sense is felt by the audience 
at work beneath the abnormal meaning which the context alone makes 
necessary. The result is to add to the sense that the speakers ‘know not 
what they say’:—in other words, the tragic irony is heightened by what 
at first sight seems to be nothing but a poet’s rather bold vocabulary. 

38. ‘With the aid of a god’: Bruhn remarks that Oedipus, proud of 
his intelligence, does not agree. I think that at the outset of the play 
there is nothing to justify this suggestion. Of course, at 396 Oedipus in 


102 NOTES 


his excitement has forgotten to acknowledge the divine assistance: but 
that is a sign of his growing self-confidence. At the outset he would 
piously agree. 

40. The form of the phrase heightens the effect already attained, 
since xpdrwrov recalls the priest’s GAN’ & xparivev (14) and aor recalls 
the proud name of Oedipus 6 waou xXeuvds (8). 

43- Jebb is unquestionably right in his interpretation of @ypy as 
‘any message, any rumour or speech casually heard, which might be 
interpreted as a hint from the gods.’ The formula which describes that 
sort of thing is to say that a person has spoken otv Geo (Hdt. m1 153), 
z.e., with a greater truth than he knows. The belief that people con- 
stantly do this naturally involves the further belief that a clever person 
can draw inferences from the ‘chance’ utterances which really come from 
the gods. Of course such notions add greatly to the effect of tragic irony. 
There is no sort of excuse for the suggestion that Oedipus is regarded as 
having a miraculous and private intercourse with the gods. The advocates 
of the theory that Oedipus has characteristics derived from the primitive 
‘medicine king’ do not strengthen their case by misinterpreting perfectly 
familiar words like ¢yyy. Whatever the origin of the legend, Oedipus is 
to Sophocles simply a great and extraordinarily quick-witted person, likely 
to catch more quickly than others at any hint or clue, whether human 
or divine. The tragedy depends upon the fact that this quickness actually 
blinds him. 

44-45. In spite of Jebb’s excellent note and Appendix (p. 207) editors 
still try to make this couplet mean ‘Two heads are better than one,’ as 
if, by an etymological juggle, Sophocles, without help from the context, 
can make so common a word as vpopas mean ‘the bringing together 
for comparison’ of opinions. Now Sophocles does not, I venture to say, 
at any rate in this play, perform meaningless verbal gymnastics. See my 
remark on adusio above (line 33). The sense, also, is quite unsuitable. 
We want a proverbial phrase, quite familiar, which shall sum up the 
point, not of one little clause, but of the whole symmetrical paragraph. 
And this is exactly what Sophocles has given. The whole paragraph 
means: ‘We come to you because you saved us before: we hope you will 
save us again.’ Now Greek stresses the first word of the sentence: the 
proverb means: ‘It is in the case of men of experience, above all others, 
that I find both counsel and event live!’ Similarly: Herodotus m1 81 
dpictwv dvipav oikés adpurta BovAcipara yiverbar, means ‘It is the best 
men whose counsels are likely to be the best.’ The difficulty of the 
genitive would not have been felt if the scholars had remembered the 
extraordinary popularity of the combination ‘word and deed’ ‘counsel 
and act.’ It is because this is so familiar that Sophocles can play with 


NOTES 103 


his phrase, and say ‘what happens in regard to what they plan, as well 
as (xai) what they plan. That gives him the chance of making the 
innocent phrase seem somehow to the audience disquieting. He delays 
tov BovAevpdtwv in order that we may feel ras Evxpdopis Lwoas... with its 
sinister suggestion of ‘disasters alive.’ (See line 33.) We feel it only 
half-consciously, but by such slight touches, hardly realised by his 
audience, Sophocles prepares the mind for the full emotional value of such 
lines as ¢.g. 833, 1527. 

The proverb that the trial of experience is the only sure test of a man 
‘is very popular in Greek. See Pindar O2. 1v 16, vim 61, Eur. fr. 809 
(persons who have ‘never given the proof,” whose ‘wisdom is not so much 
in reality as in seeming’), Theogn. 571. Oedipus, having once passed the 
test will not fail now ‘in counsel and in the acts that belong to that 
counsel.’ That is what the priest means. The sentiment is based on 
proverbs like refpa palyowos apxd, airoparov ovdév GAN’ ard reipyns ravra 
évOparoor prrée yiverGar (Hdt. vit g), & 5? pedéra piows dyabas rréova 
Swpetrar (Epicharm. Diels, 33 p. 95). But the proverb has another applica- 
tion which the sequel will in most sinister fashion develop:—It is the 
exercise of authority that shows the man, see ¢g. Diog. L. 1 § 77, the 
opinion of Pittacus. You can never be sure #// the test comes who is wise, 
fortunate, moderate in the use of power. See line 613 note. 

46-57. This is the final paragraph of the great appeal. The first 
paragraph suggested the greatness of Oedipus in contrast with the weak- 
ness of the suppliants, and described the plight of the city: the second 
asserted that the greatness which justifies the appeal for help is vouched 
for by past service: the third bids Oedipus to be mindful of his honour 
and to save the city for the future. Thus the first paragraph describes the 
present, the second appeals to the past, the third looks to the future. 
In line 46 Oedipus has the title ‘Best of Men,’ higher than the titles of 
line 14 and line 40. Then the word ép@doa, used in line 39 to describe 
the past service, recurs in a strengthened form, dvép$woov: the repetition 
of this word at line 51 marks the end of a first subdivision of the final 
appeal: that subdivision simply repeats the thought of the second main 
paragraph, with the addition of the warning and appeal for the future. 
This effect is summed up in the next couplet 52-53. Then, in the last 
four lines, the warning is repeated in the most significant phrases of all, 
and made more moving by a subtle reminiscence of the plight of the 
city as described in lines 22-30. That is the effect of xevjs, and of the 
reference to the ship. Finally the last proverbial couplet combines with 
quiet dignity the warning and the pathos. 

The problem for Sophocles was to make his priest present a suffi- 
ciently moving picture of the city’s suffering and need, without making 


104 NOTES 


us feel more concern for the fate of the city than for the fate of Oedipus. 
My remarks on the form of the speech are intended to show by what 
method Sophocles has, as I think he has, succeeded. It is not only 
formal beauty but also dramatic effect that is enceiined if we begin our 
performance with an excited crowd. 

46. Bruhn well observes that the word ép§otv of which so much use 
is made here, is familiar to the audience as part of a well known formula 
of prayer to Athene for the city’s safety. The effect is to heighten our 
sense of the fact that Oedipus is honoured almost as a god. 

47. All editors perceive the ambiguity and tragic power of eAa- 
fxnOnr. For the priest it means ‘Have a care for the maintenance of your 
past reputation as a benefactor.’ For us it suggests, ‘Walk carefully, 
with that moderation which great men most need.’ avgddAeva depends on 
evrAd Bea. 

54- Here the editors miss the point. Deluded by the fact that 
sometimes in Greek a synonym is substituted for variety where English 
or German would repeat a word—just as sometimes Greek repeats 
where we should substitute—commentators eagerly assure us that 
although ‘xpareiy twos merely means to hold in one’s power and dpxew 
implies a constitutional rule,’ yet ‘the poet intends no stress on a 
verbal contrast: it is as if he had written etrep apges womep dpyes.’ Line 
14 and line 40 suggest that the poet has some reason for dwelling on the 
theme of ‘mere power.’ To the priest, it is true, the words mean simply 
‘If you intend to prove in the future an excellent governor as you are a 
powerful King to-day.’ But the associations of the word xparety suggest, 
very lightly but quite certainly, the danger of the despotic frame of 
mind: subconsciously, perhaps, but certainly, we are affected by the 
word. We are reminded of a theme which is presently to be sounded 
with clear insistence, and is to become one of the chief mo#zfs of the play. 

58-77. aides recalls the tenderness of line 1. The ambiguity of 
lines 61-64 is different in effect from the unconscious warning of the 
priest. The priest made us tremble for the moral health of the King: this 
speech makes us pity the unconscious victim, and is carefully framed to 
make us realise that, although his position is one of great moral danger, 
he is, at heart, not arrogant, but a good King, father of his people. 

After 64, 67, 72, 75, there is a slight pause. After the perfect 
sympathy and sorrow of the first paragraph, a stronger note is heard in 
lines 65 ff., rising to a vigorous confidence in 68. At 73 there is some 
anxiety, and at the slow repetition of the thought in 75 a certain irritation. 
It is the first note of the coming conflict with Creon. Finally the last 
couplet is vigorous and confident. 

65. It is true, as Jebb says, that the modal dative uzvw raises and 


NOTES 105 


invigorates the metaphor: but the metaphor is not to be despised 
because it is trite. Familiar it is, but that is why it is so effective. It is 
Kings who do not, if they are good Kings, sleep. Homer himself assumes 
it. The dream which appears to Agamemnon, though a false dream, tells 
the truth when it says: ‘A man that is a counsellor to whom the people 
is entrusted, one that hath so many claims upon his thought, ought not 
to sleep the long night through!’ (72 11 23 f.), and although the proverb 
has become a metaphor in //. 1v 223, where the Trojans advance and 
‘then you would not have seen Agamemnon sleeping,’ the actual scene 
which serves as pattern for the anxiety of the good king is also to be 
found in Homer, //, x 3-10. There you will find the ancestor of the 
weeping as well as of the sleeplessness of Oedipus. The theme was used 
by Aeschylus for Eteocles in Se#. 3, and is therefore peculiarly effective 
here. A good King wakes for the benefit of his people, but a bad King 
cannot sleep because he is afraid. Contrast the picture of the changed 
Oedipus at lines 620, 914. 

The common proverb that night is the time for thought (Epicharmus, 
Diels, 27 p. 94 ai ri xa larjs codov, tas vuxrds évOupnréov and 28 p. 94 
Tavra Ta, eTrovoaia vuKTos paAXov eLevpioxerat) is later combined with the 
mystical doctrine that the soul wakes when the body sleeps. 

LA trvm y edovra yp’: T trvwv. Badham’s évdovra is unnecessary, 
and trvw does, as Jebb says, add vigour to the notion of evdovra. But 
yé seems out of place: it should stress trv and make the effect 
something like:—‘It is not sleep that causes the lethargy from which 
you rouse me!’ I’ preserves here a trace of the true reading trvw p’ 
<vdovrd y’. 

69. Sophocles adapts with consummate skill the commonplace, often 
so crudely used, of ‘word and deed,’ to the purpose of expressing the 
intense vitality of Oedipus. With him to think is to act. He is like the 
Cyrus of Herodotus 1 79:—‘When this seemed good to him, he pro- 
ceeded with all speed to put it into action.’ We recognise an Athenian 
trait. Thuc. 1 70, the Athenians are érwojoa d£eis kal érvrehéoat Epyw 6 av 
yvaow. The character of Oedipus is revealed by the sudden energy of 
éxpaéa here, then by the slight stress thrown by the arrangement of the 
words on Spay in line 72, and finally by the repetition of Spay in line 77. 
Similarly, his vigour is suggested by the substitution of the direct 7é for 
the indirect 6 7 in 72, and by the second direct ré in 74- 

The elaborate treatment of the dignity of Creon is intended to en- 
courage the suppliants. 

71-72. Prof. Murray translates ‘what bitter task,’ and treats the 
passage, accordingly, as evidence for his theory that Oedipus expects to 
be told that he must die for his people. There is, I venture to think, no 


106 NOTES 


evidence that Sophocles was acquainted with the theory of the Golden 
Bough. He knew, of course, that certain legendary kings gave themselves 
or their relatives as human sacrifices for the state. That does not justify 
us in supposing that he thought of such persons as ‘medicine kings’— 
whether or not the modern theory, that they were originally such, be 
true. Nothing points to a general Greek assumption that the normal 
thing for a King to expect, if his country was in danger, was an invitation 
to self-slaughter. The sacrifice, then as now, was generally demanded 
from less exalted persons. So far as the phrase ‘by word or deed’ is 
concerned, we have fortunately two exact parallels, one of which cannot 
possibly be distorted for purpose of anthropological inexactitude. The 
father of Io was also a King. Is it seriously suggested that he felt this 
personal anxiety when he sent messages to Delphi to learn ‘by what 
word or deed he ought to satisfy the gods’ (Aesch. P. V. 659)? Anyhow, 
when Orestes and Electra ask ‘by what word or deed’ they can stir up 
the spirit of Agamemnon to help them against the usurpers, they clearly 
have no thought of self-immolation. The formula, common in all Greek, 
means ‘How?,’ and is specially used of ritual. 

72. It is surprising that Jebb should write :—‘fvooiunvis grammatically 
possible but less fitting...because pucoiunv implies that Oedipus is con- 
fident of a successful result.’ Of course he is. That is what makes 
Linwood’s fucoipuny attractive. But in view of the strong MSS evidence 
I have kept pvoaiuny, with Jebb. 

73-75. The lateness of Creon and the slight irritation of the anxious 
King give the first hint, as Patin pointed out, of the suspicion and 
quarrel which are to come. At this point, of course, there is no sus- 
picion: only, the irritation hints at an attitude of mind in which the 
suspicion may arise. The immediate effect is to give an opportunity for 
the repetition of the sudden vigour which emerged in line 69. 

_76. The word xaxds is to play an important part in the relations of 
Oedipus, Teiresias and Creon. He calls them xaxos, and in the end 
confesses that the word applies to himself. See line 1421. 

78-79. Creon is advancing into the orchestra by the passage between 
the palace and the left hand side of the auditorium. He is first seen by 
some of the youths, who indicate his approach by signs to the Priest of 
Zeus. At 79 he is seen by all the spectators, but has still some distance 
to walk before he is able from the orchestra to converse with Oedipus 
who stands on the palace steps. 

The priest's words mean more than ‘Your words are good, and Creon 
is coming.’ «is xadov applies to both clauses: and the sense is: ‘Your 
words are xaipua’ because they are both hopeful and modest, ‘and simi- 
larly Creon’s coming just when you have spoken so wisely is of good 


NOTES 107 


omen.’ The speech of Oedipus ended with a pious vow to do whatever 
the god commands. It is to this that the priest directly refers: but the 
whole speech of Oedipus was, indeed, inspired by the right-minded 
moderation which promises good. 

80. Oedipus himself has won the title ‘Saviour’ because with ‘good 
omen he brought Fortune’ to Thebes. The theme becomes of great 
importance later in the play—when Oedipus, forgetting his mortality, 
trusts overmuch to Luck (1080). The couplet plays on a note which is 
to become tragic: for the moment it illustrates only the piety of the 
King. 

83. Those who return from Delphi with good news are crowned with 
Apollo’s laurel. Eur. 4p. 806 reminds us that it was not the custom 
for those who received a bad answer to wear it. In this case as Creon’s 
words imply, the oracle is partly good, partly bad. The laurel wreath is 
worn in the hope that the good will prevail over the evil, 76 8 eb vixatw 
(Aesch. Ag. 121), and because by saying that the message is good you 
help the good to prevail. See note on line 87. 

84. The character of Oedipus is felt in the strong ‘We shall soon 
know,’ with which he brushes aside the vague ‘conjecture’ of the priest. 
The effect depends partly on the fact that the priest’s conjecture is in 
fact not quite justified, as Creon now proceeds to inform us. 

87. See the interpretation of a bad dream in Aesch. Persae. It isa 
good thing that the first ‘judges’ of the dream are kindly and give it a 
good meaning (226): the queen is to pray for the ‘turning away’ of the 
bad element, the realisation of the good (217 f.): line 225 expresses just 
the notion here expressed by Creon: if the issue be on the whole good, 
it may be called wholly good. The parallel is completed by the opening 
words of the ‘interpreters’: ‘We do not wish to terrify you overmuch, 
nor yet to make you too confident.’ So here Creon says the message is 
good, just as he wears the laurel, in order to make it turn out well. 
Really it is ambiguous, promising relief, yet reviving old troubles and 
setting a task which seems very difficult. The formula of prayer that the 
evil be turned into good is conventional, necessary in such cases. In 
Aesch. Ag. 146, as Walter Headlam once remarked, the mysterious 
otpovdav may quite possibly be a corruption for dvopGotv, the prayer to 
Artemis being ‘Accomplish what is good in these signs, and set right 
what is evil.’ However this may be, the formula here, as in the 4g., 
‘partly good, partly bad,’ is traditional. It is subtly modified by Sophocles 
for his dramatic purpose. Creon means simply ‘even that part of the 
message that is bad, will be for the best if it ends in good.’ But the 
literal meaning of éédvra, ‘coming out,’ is felt beneath the sense 
which the context gives to the word—here used for azofaivovra or the 


108 NOTES 


like. [Mr A.C. Pearson in C.Q. vol. x111 1919 p. 120, gives good reason 
for accepting éédvra from Suidas and Zonaras in place of the MSS reading 
é&eXOdvra.| The audience are to be half- unconsciously reminded of the 
isaaie fact that the evil is to ‘come out’ to the light, xaz’ ép@dv, not merely 

‘in a good issue’ but ‘in accordance with the oracles of Apollo.’ At 
the moment of course, we feel no more than a vague hint: as the play 
develops the words é&«Ad«iv and ép0és acquire a tragic value. See lines 
506, 1084, 1182, 1221. The full dramatic value of the language here used 
can, however, only be appreciated if we remember also the familiarity of 
the ideas expressed, for instance, by the letter of the pious Amasis to the 
too prosperous Polycrates (Hdt. 111 40, 43, 44):—‘I also wish, in my own 
life, to be fortunate in part of the matters for which I care, in part to fail, 
and thus to live throughout my life in changing good and ill, rather than 
to be fortunate in all things. For I know of none among all whose story 
I have heard that ended not at last in evil and in utter ruin, if he was 
fortunate in every thing.’ The divine envy, however, of which Amasis 
also speaks, is not relevant to the moral of our play. 

89-90. In all that concerns the future a man, as man, ought to be 
neither too hopeful nor too much afraid. Sophocles plays already on 
the theme of modest measure. Oedipus is at present rightly-minded. 
Soon he will be unduly fearful, then unduly optimistic. Again there is 
no hint of Mr Murray’s fear that he may be called upon to die for his 
people, but only the pious use of a cautious formula. 

94. The point again is simply that. Oedipus is a good sort of 
democratic king. A man’s life is his most precious possession, and it is 
quite natural for a king who wants to say ‘Let them hear: for it is their 
grief that matters to me more than anything else,’ to put his point as 
strongly as possible by saying—‘I care for their grief more than for my 
own life.’ See Hom. /Z. 1x 401, Hesiod Of. 686, Eur. Ovest. 644, 
Andr. 418. 

But there is, as usual, tragic irony, which indeed depends partly on 
the fact that Oedipus—face Professor Murray—has no idea that the 
answer will affect himself and all that he holds most dear. 

95- The optative with dv is rendered by Jebb, ‘I will speak by your 
leave...’ But although this is often the effect of the tentative optative, 
the panels here suggests not ‘I will, if I may,’ but ‘I will, if I must.’ 
Creon would prefer to speak in private. 

97. The words are chosen with veiled reference to the fact that it is 
the Theban birth of Oedipus that is the cause of his calamity: 4 452 ff. 
and notice in that connection the use of Evmdopas in go. 

IOI. rdde does not merely, by a Sophoclean ‘boldness’ of idiom, 
mean ‘this blood,’ implied by the phrase ¢évw ¢ddvov..., but seems to 


NOTES 109 


spring straight from the thought of the speaker: ‘’Tis this, ’tis blood.’ 
So avrn in 442. 

103. Oedipus need not be told this! Creon, realising the difficulty 
of finding the murderers, and also embarrassed at having to speak before 
the crowd, is slow in coming to the point. 

105. Oedipus is now falling into the tone of a judge who examines 
carefully even the most obvious statement to see whether it is evidence. 
So, after a rather impatient ‘I know that well,’ he corrects himself. 
Hearsay is not knowledge. The remark shows the character of the man. 
The irony is not so cheap as it may at first sight appear to those who do 
not remember how the Greeks love to dwell on the proverb ‘ Ears are 
less trustworthy than eyes’ (Hdt. 1 8). 

107. twas is an afterthought, an expression of Creon’s sense of the 
difficulty of the task. The plural is vaguely used and so felt by the 
audience. Accounts of the play which begin by explaining the point 
about ‘robber’ and ‘robbers,’ tend to obscure the skill of the gradual 
development of this theme by Sophocles. 

rog. If, with some editors, we put the note of interrogation at 
eipeOyoerat, we spoil the stress. If line 109 is a complete sentence, the 
emphasis must fall on the unimportant iyvos not on the adjectives—Greek 
could not in that case stress dvoréxuaprov: but if ixvos is explanatory 
of zd the stress falls naturally in the right places on waAaiés and on 
dvoréxpaprov. For the use of rode with the explanatory tyvos, of 101, 
442. 

Iro. Creon repeats the statement of 97-8, and answers the proverbial 
tone of 109 (which means ‘this—which is the trace of an ancient crime 
and therefore hard to discover’) with a very sententious: ‘You can only 
find a thing by trying to look for it.’ This also is proverbial; see 
Xenophanes (Diels, 18 p. 49) ovrou dx’ dpyis wavra Geol Ovnroia’ vrdédesav, 
adAa xpovm Cntodvres éhevpioxovew apewvov. For the form of the sentence 
of. Plato Rep. Vill. 551A aoxeirar Sy 7d det TYyswpevov, apedcirar be TO 
arysafopevov, By the choice of the words dAwrov ‘caught’ and éxdevyer 
‘escapes,’ Sophocles has added to the sententiousness a subtle hint of 
the tragedy. Ocdipus, by persisting in the search, is in fact to discover 
something terrible and unsought. The moral, of course, is not that it is 
wrong for him to persist. Simply the result is tragic. Plutarch has an 
interesting passage (Mor. 97 £) in which, with the fate of Oedipus in his 
mind, he denies that ‘ Luck governs all’ (see O.Z: 977, 1080): ‘If all 
that belongs to the sphere of good counsel («#PovAia) simply depends on 
Luck,’ we may as well say that justice, temperance, thieving, lust, etc., 
are all matters of luck: and ‘Sophocles talked nonsense when he said 
mav 7o fytovpevov, etc.’ Plutarch perceived, I think, the very subtle 


IIo NOTES 


and tragic relation between 1roo-111 and the impiety of 977 and 
1080, 

112-113. The form of the question sounds to an Athenian ear quite 
natural and unforced. Oedipus speaks as King and Judge. According 
to Aristotle, Pol. I’ 14 13 p. 1215 b, ‘Kings in the time of the ancients 
exercised their sway over matters concerning (1) the city, (2) the country 
districts round the city, (3) the districts beyond the borders of their 
territory.’ Newman refers also to Plato Phaedrus 230 C. 

114. According to one form of the legend (see Eur. Phoen. 36), 
Laius had doubts about the death of his son, and went to Delphi to ask 
the god as to his fate. Sophocles very delicately adapts this story, by 
sending Laius to Delphi without informing us of his purpose. I cannot, 
with Robert, Ozdipus p. 96, believe that ws épacxey implies that Creon 
suspected Laius’ purpose and knew of the exposure of the child. Creon 
speaks as a careful witness, distinguishing what is evidence from what is 
not. He speaks only what he knows. For the moral development of 
that fact see lines 569, 1520. 

117. ‘From whom one might have learnt, and used the information.’ 
The sudden shift of construction is vivid, and renews the impression of 
the energy of Oedipus: see eg. 69, 72, 77. Bruhn accepts from 
Ed. Schwartz xar9j\Oev ov. L has xareid’ éy (év.2m rasura) drov, and other 
MSS xareid’ drov, which I, after Jebb and others, accept. It is like 
Sophocles to make the King’s speech outrun logic in order to express 
the rapidity of his thought: ‘Was there no messenger from him—no 
fellow-traveller with him—no eyewitness of the calamity...?’ Similarly 
drov, with its slight note of uncertainty, is characteristic. 

120. Bruhn rightly calls attention to the tragic effect of these words, 
and points to the sequel in 1182, where the ‘one’ thing has produced 
‘the many,’ and ra zavra comes out clear. 

122. At 107 the audience hardly noticed the plural. Here it is 
forced on their attention, and they begin to see that it will be important 
in misleading Oedipus. The terror of the servant who escaped is alleged 
by the scholiast to have made him see more than was really to be seen. 
But exaggeration also helped him to escape the suspicion of cowardice. 

124. The singular is generic, and does not imply that Oedipus takes 
the view that it must have been a single robber. It is used as, for 
instance, we use ‘The Turk.’ But the fact that Oedipus can thus 
casually use the singular has its dramatic value: it serves to help us to 
realise that he has no suspicion of the importance of the statement that 
the crime was committed by a company of men. The effect of Creon’s 
words on his mind is different, more subtle—as his mind is subtle—and 
misleading. The mention of the strength of the alleged company of 


NOTES Itt 


bandits suggests to him that ‘of course it is a bold thing for any high- 
wayman to undertake an attack upon a King.’ He assumes at present, 
quite naturally, that Laius travelled as a King (751). Therefore the 
remark that a strong band of highwaymen was concerned, though it does 
not impress him as important evidence, suggests to him the thought : 
‘What could have induced mere highwaymen to attack a King’s body- 
guard ?’ 

The suspicion which thus arises is quite natural, and, although it is 
so acute that editors have thought it ridiculously extravagant, it is, for a 
suspicion, well-founded. The King has heard two statements: the guilty 
person is to be found in Thebes: the murderers were highwaymen, and 
the crime was committed somewhere on the road from Thebes to Delphi. 
Then the mention of the numbers of the highwaymen has suggested the 
thought ‘What could induce highwaymen to undertake so risky an 
enterprise?’ That they were paid for their trouble is a natural suggestion— 
and ‘by some party in Thebes’ is the natural corollary. The words 
come from the lips of the King as the thoughts pass through his mind. 

127. Bruhn thinks the word dpwyds ‘helper’ suspicious, but a 
murdered man himself desires vengeance and tries to take it: the living 
only help him. That notion explains érixovpos in 496, where it is a 
mistake to talk of the word being ‘used in the sense of avenger’: it 
means ‘helper in the matter of....’ 

128-129. The tone is indignant. The suspicion that Theban politics 
had a share in the crime is confirmed. The Theban authorities them- 
selves did not follow up the clue! Well, Creon was himself in authority. 
We see that the King has not yet reached the natural inference: but we 
feel that the road is open for the final mistake. The break between 
éuxodav and <ipye, the slight redundance, and the use of éfedévac in 
strong contrast to Creon’s doxoivra (cf 84, 105) are all indignant in 
effect. For the audience the lines reveal, not only this half-conscious 
accumulation of suspicion, but also the somewhat excessive emotion of 
Oedipus about Kingship. rvpavvidos means here simply ‘a royal throne,’ 
but the first hint is given of the development which is to make Oedipus 
himself behave as a ‘tyrant,’ because he thinks that Kingship is, as the 
Greeks say, ‘something.’ 

130. The tone is one of quiet remonstrance. The proverb says that 
one should consider the immediate and pressing needs, not run after 
vague and secondary matters. Jebb well refers to Pindar /s¢Am. vill 12. 
Sophocles /~ 671 pucd pev ooris tapavy wepioxoret... illustrates the 
proverb: so does Thales falling into the well: ¢ ra xar’ aifépa Acioowv 
Touv TOG OvK cdanv THA KvALWdopevov (Antipater Sidon. Anth. Pal. 7 172, 
quoted by Nauck). Add Eur. Rhesus 482 py vev ta wéppw tayyibev 


II2 NOTES 


peOels oxdre. Thus Creon justifies himself by the use of a familiar 
maxim: but the formula has tragic value, since it is used at the very 
moment when Oedipus is falling under the influence of a groundless, 
vague suspicion, aavys (657), which will blind him for a time to the real 
danger that lies close at hand. The tone of Creon’s defence should make 
us feel that the visitation of the Sphinx was terrible. I believe that there 
should be a moment of strained silence before Oedipus, bracing himself 
to energy and dispelling by his confidence the gloom of the whole 
assembly, speaks line 132. 

132. ard: not exactly radar) (Jebb), rather ‘the whole matter.’ 
The vague plural is used by Sophocles with great effect for ‘all that is 
in your mind.’ See notes on lines 317, 902. 

avGus: not ‘as he had done in the case of the Sphinx’s riddle’ (Jebb), 
but closely with éé vzapy7s ‘taking up the enquiry again right from the 
beginning—where you left it.’ 

133-136. After the splendid promise of 132 there is again a pause. 
Then follow four lines which make a period beginning with Phoebus 
and ending with ‘the God.’ Then 137-141 make yet another period— 
this time four lines followed by an impressive single line which repeats, 
with a noble rhythm, the point of the four, and emphasises for the 
audience their tragic irony. The second period is connected with the 
first by the natural resumption of the idea of zpo in trép.... 

133. émafiws, as Jebb says, is slightly stronger than aéiws. Bruhn 
is wrong in classifying this as an example of the use of two words in 
precisely the same sense ‘for variety.’ The dramatic value of the difference 
is considerable, since we already detect—what Oedipus does not yet 
realise—the growing suspicion against Creon. The tone is one of reverent 
acknowledgment to the god, of quiet courtesy—as by an afterthought— 
to Creon. 

140. rowary xepi ‘with the like hand,” not quite the same as rq 
airy xept. The King’s mind still dwells on the thought that the guilty 
person is to be sought in Thebes. If so, the promoter of the murder 
of Laius may well ‘use a similar—robber—hand’ to strike at Oedipus. 
Tyzwpetv Means, in the mouth of Oedipus, simply ‘to hurt’—but here, 
again, the normal meaning ‘to take vengeance on’ ‘to punish’ is felt by 
the audience, and adds to the tragic effect. 

141. pocapxdv admirably recalls the promise of lines 11-12: The — 
wav of that promise is combined in line 145 with the vigorous Spacovros. 

142-146. The reminiscence of the opening speeches, suggested by 
mpooapkay, is developed by some very beautiful and delicate touches. 
The address to the suppliants as ‘children’ has now a new tone of 
affectionate cheerfulness, and the word zaies is caught up by the priest 


NOTES 113 


in line 147. The phrase ‘people of Cadmus’ in 144 again recalls line 1. 
Finally as this speech began with ¢avé—I will bring all to light—so it 
ends ‘with the god’s aid we. shall be manifested (@avovueGa) as either 
lucky—or fallen indeed.’ The last word recalls the priest’s appeal (50) 
and is for us, of course, tragic. 

As we have already noticed, Creon’s message from Delphi is of 
doubtful import. It is a hard task to find the murderers: failure means 
that Thebes must continue to suffer. That is the thought of Oedipus : 
and ‘lucky’ is a suitable word. But see 52, 80, and 88. We are already 
beginning to feel the tragic significance of this theme of ‘luck.’ It is 
not too soon for us to remind the reader that, according to Greek 
notions, a man must not be called ‘happy,’ but only ‘lucky,’ until he 
has finished his life in prosperity. You must not trust your luck, nor 
think it certain to last. 

143. The symbols of the prayer are removed from the altars when 
the prayer has been granted. 

144. Spoken to a servant. Oedipus appears as King ‘with retinue 
and guard.’ 

151-158. The oracle, personified only by metaphor at line 151, 
actually becomes in the course of the stanza the living goddess aya. It 
comes to life, as it were, and it is a mistake to give it a capital letter on 
its first appearance, before the process has been accomplished. 

The chorus represent, conventionally, not realistically, the people of 
Thebes, summoned (144) to hear the purport of Creon’s news. There is 
no reason, however, to suppose that the suppliants have left the theatre 
as well as the altar-steps. It is assumed here that the people of Thebes, 
as distinguished from the suppliants, have heard nothing but rumour as 
to the content of the oracular message. Just as Creon called his am- 
biguous news ‘good,’ so the chorus call the message (of which they are. 
still ignorant) by many good names, in order to make it good. That is the: 
psychological motive of their s¢rophe. The dramatic effect is quite different = 
for us, who have heard the tragic hints of the opening scene, the air 
becomes charged with the mysterious voices of oracles that are alive and 
will, quite literally, ‘fulfil themselves.’ The form of the song is symmetrical. 
First we have ‘the oracle of Zeus,’ then a cry to the Healer Apollo, then: 
the oracle again. Delphi is rich in gold: the oracle is the ‘child of 
golden hope.’ Thebes is ‘splendid’ as Delphi is golden...a worthy place 
of visit for the oracle, which may feel at home there, and be kind! 

153. The rhythm puts doBepav dpeva, when first uttered, into 
construction with éxrérapa:, but the stronger de(uare raAAwv draws it away 
again by claiming it as object. 

155-156. ‘What thing, what xpéos, new or old....’. This sentence is 

S 8 


114 NOTES 


so phrased as to become for the audience subtly sinister. The word 
xpéos means, in combination with ééavicers, something like ‘ debt,’ the 
phrase being equivalent to é«mpafes xpéos. 

But there is also felt a suggestion of the use of the word in the sense 
of a ‘rite.’ The mention of ‘the revolving seasons’ adds to the effect of 
this suggestion—and, in the end, though not yet, we shall ‘realise that 
Oedipus has, like the seasons, waxed and waned, and, in that sense, 
paid the debt of nature. At this point the phrase simply strikes us as 
vaguely sinister. At line 377 a light touch recalls the emotional value, 
nor is the repeated use of xpeia, 725 (Jebb), 1174, 1435, altogether 
irrelevant to this point. But it is at 1082 ff. that we realise how the subtle 
preparation of the poet has made us receive more sympathetically the 
tragic emotion. I do not mean, of course, that we consciously connect 
the lines in our thought: I only mean that the emotional effects are 
greater because of the subconscious reminiscence. 

159. apBpore connects the appeal to the divine helpers with the 
invocation of the oracle. It is shocking to find that Bruhn accepts 
Wecklein’s avrouat. Just as ‘deathless’ connects the antistrophe with 
the end of the strophe, so ‘Daughter of Zeus’ links the beginning of the 
antistrophe with the beginning of the strophe. The appeal to Phoebus, 
the central divinity of our play, comes just where it does, in order to 
correspond exactly with the cry to Apollo the Healer in the strophe. 

159-162. The choice of the divinities is not made at random. The 
passage derives splendour from our unconscious memory of lines 20 ff. 
Athene is first for an Athenian: Artemis and (18 ff.) Apollo are a 
natural pair: Zeus, whose interpreter is Apollo, naturally has his place 
here. We shall hear more of that fact. With some hesitation I have 
accepted Elmsley’s Ev«Aea (LI edxdAia, A evxdet, Scholiast Evxdeua) : 
Pindar, however, applies the adjective to the ayopa at Athens (/* 75 5). 

166. The mention of the ‘flame of affliction’ gives a first hint of the 
coming development of the theme introduced at line 27. 

171 ff. Three troubles are named, corresponding to the priest’s 
description : blight on crops, barrenness of women, the pestilence. The 
sense runs on without a break from aAAov to dAAuTar, av = éxeivwy av. 

176. At the end of the first antistrophe, and again at the end of the 
second strophe, the metaphor of fire. 

179. It is again no accident that has made the poet recall the word 
avapOpnos. That fact is so obvious that I only mention it in order to 
suggest the probability that we are meant to feel the more subtle effects 
of such repetitions as, ¢.g., ypuoéas (157), xpvoéa (187). 

180. Gavaraddpa certainly reminds us of Thuc. 11 51 5: when we 
hear aAdorv... we can hardly help recalling Thuc. 11 52 2: and the repeated 


NOTES 115 


avapiOuos makes us think of Thuc. m1 87. But the points of similarity 
in the two descriptions do not justify us in dating the play after the 
famous historical plague. 

186. The fire is becoming more and more important. We have 
heard how the souls fly to the west like fire: now, in the lamentation, 
we hear how the sudden cry for aid Adware, and how Athene shall send 
‘the bright face of comfort and rescue’: she is Daughter of Zeus, because 
we are to be moved by the reminiscence of 151, 159: she is ‘golden’ 
to recall ‘golden hope.’ 

198-9. If you doubt Kayser’s reAet (MSS réAc, Hermann redéiv), 
remember the effect of éfavvoes in 156. Notice also that there is here 
a tragic ambiguity which makes the words apply to Oedipus. For him 
while all is hidden in night’s darkness, all seems well: the light of day 
‘cometh to destroy.’ 

200. zvpddpwr, like zupgdpous in 206, fulfils the promise of a 
development of the theme of line 27. Against the burning pestilence 
the gods are invoked with their fires. By the choice of the word xparyn 
and by the invocation of Zeus as Father, Sophocles prepares our emotion 
for the significant contrast between the transient earthly authority of 
Oedipus and the permanent sway of the only true King of gods and men. 
(See line 903.) The significance of the Creon scenes owes much to this 
idea. It is worth noticing that Apollo here has no fire. Zeus is to 
strike against the plague with his lightning: Artemis is to come with her 
blazing torches: Bacchus is to drive sorrow and darkness away by the 
appearance of his revel rout. oivéra and dyAadm recall eddaa (189): 
the gold recalls touches which we have already noticed: as the god of 
pestilence ¢Aéye we, so Bacchus comes ¢Aé€yovra: in answer to the cries 
of anguish the Dionysiac cry is to be raised, ewov. The full value of this 
excited climax will be realised if you turn to lines 1105 ff. But Apollo is to 
come only with arrows—not dealing death, as do the arrows of Apollo in 
the /Zad, but dpwya. In the next choral ode, when the murderer is tracked 
to his doom, Apollo, the son of Zeus, will pursue him ‘armed with the fire 
and the lightning.’ It is for the sake of that tragic development that here 
Apollo is invoked without the fire! 

216. The King supervenes upon the turmoil of distress and the 
passion of appeal to the gods. The effect of his first words is to heighten 
our sense of his greatness and of his dangerous self-confidence. Compare 
(and contrast) the return of Eteocles in Septem 165 ff. 

217. To ‘tend a disease’ means, in Greek as in English, to try to 
cure it: yet I think there is, for the audience, a hint of tragic irony. 

220-221. Probably there is corruption, and the direction in which 
we should look for the solution is suggested by py xuxwv, which I find 
that Headlam was once inclined to accept. ‘I, the discoverer of hidden 


8—2 


116 NOTES 


truths, should not have investigated it long—had I been here—without 
finding a clue.’ This makes 7 right. 

224. I agree with Professor Murray that the King pauses, first before 
his proclamation which begins with the formal line 224, then after each 
request for information (¢.¢., at lines 226, 229, 2 32). There is a long 
pause at 232 where Oedipus has finished his enumeration of the possible 
alternatives: as the guilty person is to be found in Thebes, he assumes 
that someone knows the truth (the chorus, as Bruhn remarks, standing 
for the whole of Thebes): the first group of three lines asks anyone 
who knows to speak: the second appeals to the guilty man to denounce 
himself: the third appeals to anyone who knows that another is guilty. 

227. MSS imegedov | avrds, edd. irefeXciv. Jebb’s tregeAcly atrov 
xa’ abrod is only made possible by supplying oypatvovra which, I 
believe, is quite indefensible. The sense required is really given if we 
hold vrefeetv (with Bruhn) to mean ‘to bring out the charge from the 
secret place, his heart, in which it now lies.’ We want the clear dis- 
tinction between one who knows his own guilt and one who knows 
his neighbour’s. Construe literally:—‘And if he fears to produce the 
charge himself bringing it against himself—why’ (there is a simple 
ellipse) ‘he shall suffer no worse penalty than banishment.’ 

230. The stress is on @AAov contrasted with airds of 228. ‘Or if he 
knows another man as guilty...’ I print, with some reluctance, 7 é€ 
(MSS éé) adAns xGovds dv airdxerpa (Vauvilliers), quite a natural expres- 
sion since aAAov when heard naturally strikes us as meaning ‘another 
Theban’; literally, ‘some other man as the murderer or someone from 
another land.’ If we could accept ¢iz’ abrdéyewpa and xepds, there would 
be no need for 7 which is indeed rather in the way. I am indeed 
inclined to think that mention of a foreigner is out of place. 233-234 
should sum up what has been said, avrod corresponding to airds in 228, 
and ¢iAov to aAXov in 230. 

235. The vigorous dpdéow has an effect like that of émpaga (69). 
What can Oedipus, in fact, do, if those who know about the crime will 
not speak? He can threaten them with punishment if they are ever 
discovered to have known, but he can do more than this. By pronouncing 
the sentence of outlawry on the unknown criminal, and by cutting him 
off from the domestic and religious privileges of the city, he can actually 
bring home to those who know anything of the crime the danger that 
they run by being silent: the outlaw’s presence in their home or at any 
sacrifice, means, for all concerned, pollution and disaster. The paragraph, 
236 ff, is therefore a threat to the silent but possibly innocent citizen, 
though those critics are mistaken who suppose that the outlawry is here 
pronounced on anyone except the murderer. 

237. This strong and formal assertion of authority recalls the words. 


NOTES 117 


of Creon in the proclamation scene of the Antigone (162 ff.), a play which 
I believe to be earlier than: the Oedipus. Creon’s proclamation there is 
so arranged by Sophocles that it recalls the first address of Eteocles in 
the Sepfem, and the particular phrase recalled has a special value because, 
by the sudden shift from 67° otv éxeivor...dAovro (170) to the vivid éyo 
kpatm 8 mdvra kal Opdvors éxw (173), the confident and overbearing 
character, which is to ruin Creon, is revealed. Here the assertion of 
authority is less overbearing—véuw here has not the effect of éyw there— 
but the phrase contributes to the growing sense of the perilous power 
of the King. See 14, 40, 54, and the mention of the xpdry of the only 
really Great King in 201. We shall hear much more of this theme. 

238-240. Normal and formal grammar expects pndé Ovuacw, but the 
dramatist knows how to make his characters think while they speak. The 
result of using pyre throughout this passage is this: first we hear ‘that 
none should either speak to him or receive him’; then, as if this double 
prohibition had been expressed as one prohibition (only half a sentence, 
beginning with the pyre which demands a second pyre) we hear ‘nor make 
him a sharer in prayer or sacrifice.’ But this second double prohibition 
is in its turn treated as one, and answered by ‘nor give him a place in 
the lustration.’ The effect is a more vigorous expression of pyre welcome- 
or-speak pyre make-him-partner-in-prayer-or-sacrifice: but even that is 
not vigorous enough, a third pre creates the new classification prayer 
and sacrifice-or-libation. Grammatically pyre at the beginning of 239 
couples the whole idea of 238 with the whole idea of 239-240, but the 
pyre of 240 couples vépew with roretoPa. 

244. There is a pause before this line. The formal proclamation of 
the city’s duty is ended. Now begins the royal curse upon the unknown 
person or persons guilty of the murder. The curse is the King’s 
security for the observance of his command, since to harbour the criminal 
who is under such a ban is doubly dangerous. To show that he himself 
is prepared to obey his own injunction the King, therefore, invokes the 
ban on his own head if he voluntarily entertain the murderers. 

247. The words are carefully chosen for the irony. The obvious 
meaning is: ‘Whether it be one person, this unknown criminal, or whether 
it be a company.’ But the shift to tAcdvwv pwéra makes it possible for 
the hearer to feel the other meaning ‘if it be one man all unknown and 
unsuspected,’ the last man one would expect, Oedipus himself! But this 
slight touch of irony is not the only result. We are made to see also the 
mind of Oedipus at work: the notion that the work was done by a 
number of robbers bribed by someone at Thebes, is haunting him. So, 
having spoken of the doer, he unconsciously betrays his opinion by adding, 
not ‘or the doers,’ but ‘whether he was one or whether he had many 


118 NOTES 


helpers.’ This reveals to us that he is not thinking simply of the 
alternative ‘one or many’ but of the possibility of one chief criminal who 
used the many. The mind is ready for the suspicion against Creon. 

251. The shift from the single criminal to the plural rotode is 
explained by my note on 247. It is the plural that sticks in the mind of 
Oedipus. This fine psychological touch has the further merit that it 
prepares the audience for the importance which is to be attached to the 
distinction between the one and the many. If it were not for such 
preparation we should find lines 842-845, particularly the last line, some- 
what unnatural. . 

252. The return, after the curse is pronounced on the murderer, to 
the duty of the citizens, is natural in view of the fact which I have 
mentioned in my note on 244. From this point the speech flows without 
a break to its natural conclusion: the main thoughts are: ‘Citizens, do 
your duty: I pronounce a curse on all who conceal any clue: but all 
who do their duty have my prayers for their delivery.’ 

257. te is psychologically right. Oedipus thinks Kingship very 
important. See line 128. It is because he thinks it so important that 
the mention of the Kingship of Laius leads him to digress in the next line. 

258. It is not quite accurate to say that xupd r éyo =éyw re Kupd 
(Jebb and others), since what Oedipus says is: ‘I am King in his place, 
and I am the husband of his wife, and I should have been even more 
closely related to him by his children and mine....’ 

The effect again is to. make us feel that Oedipus counts the royal 
office as a great matter. Those who find that the tragic irony of 261-4 
is rather crude, have perhaps not always realised that the irony is not 
the only value of the lines. The character of Oedipus appears: Kings 
matter to him. So do all natural ties of kinship: and it is because his 
feeling for such ties is so sensitive that his tragedy matters to us, 

263. The choice of the words is important. Fortune, of which we 
shall have more to say (see note on 442), leaps also on the head of 
Oedipus (1311). There is no trace in this play of the suferstitious notion 
of the inherited curse: but the tragic value of such a touch as this depends 
partly on the memory of the use of such themes in the earlier poetry. 

267-268. The recital of the pedigree makes the citizens realise the 
importance of the King and the dreadfulness of the crime. It also recalls 
the speech from the personal and emotional tone of 260 ff., to the more 
formal tone of a public proclamation. Finally it reveals again the high. 
sense which Oedipus himself has of the importance of ancient dignities 
and a sound ancestry. 

270. For the prayer compare the solemn words of Cambyses (when 
he has recovered his sanity) Hat. 111 65 cal ratra piv roedor viv yp TE 


NOTES 119 


Kaprov éxépor Kai yuvaikés Te Kal rotpvar Tixrovev, Otherwise Ta évavTioa 
rovrout apopat vpiv yevéerOar, kat mpds ere TovTOLGL TO TéAOS Tlepoéwy Exdotw 
ervyevéc Oar otov enol éxuyéyove. 

280-281. This is pious, true, and, to us who know the sequel, tragic. 
The associations of the commonplace are already tragic, as we may see 
if we read Herodotus 1x 16. Jocasta at 724 expresses the positive, and 
for her destiny, even more terrible, aspect of this truth. 

285. Observe that Teiresias does not, because he is Apollo’s prophet, 
see all things exactly as Apollo sees them: he sees more than other men, 
and is the most like to Apollo. That is all. Scholars who argue about 
the conduct of Teiresias in the past, and infer that he was neglectful, 
unscrupulous, fraudulent, do not allow for this limitation. Sophocles 
leaves vague the question of his past knowledge. We have no right to 
assume that he could have prevented the whole tragedy by speaking 
earlier. Even when he first appears it is not certain that he knows why 
he has come! As Apollo gives him light, so he sees. And when he sees 
the truth, he realises the meaning of much that had before been vague. 

287. The effect of the grammatical shift, érpagdunv suddenly taking 
the place of some word like xaréAizov (Jebb), is vigorous. Scholars who 
have objected to the phrase have not felt the character of Oedipus in 
lines 69, 77, 235- 

288. Another hint of the suspicion that is soon to be felt by Oedipus. 
Though he feels no suspicion as he says these words, the fact that he says 
them makes us able to see the growth of the suspicion beneath all 
irritation at Teiresias. We know what is coming when in 357 we hear 
mpos Tod didaxGeis, and can realise, because of this subtle preparation, 
what is happening in the King’s mind just before 378. 

289. Similarly the delay and the King’s irritation at it, are psycho- 
logically connected both for the King and for the audience with the coming 
storm of passion. See above, 74. 2 7apov is not exactly ‘Why he is not 
here?’ but eg vigorous: the effect is something like ‘Is he not here yet? 
Strange... 

292. Though all highwaymen are wayfarers, all wayfarers are not 
brigands. Oedipus is intelligent, but not now calm and critical as a judge. 
The object of these lines, however, is not to show us that Oedipus is less 
keen-witted than he might be, but to remind us that he is thinking of a 
band of robbers, and to prepare us, naturally and without mechanical 
insistence on the point, for the importance of the distinction between one 
traveller and a company of brigands. 

296. The tragic irony is obvious, but it cuts deeper than most critics 
have seen. It is in vain that Creon, once suspected by Oedipus of the 
guilt of the deed, places himself under the ban of a solemn oath. Further; 


120 NOTES 


the deluded King is unable to perceive the wisdom of Creon’s pious 
moralising, which is a warning, if he could only see it, to himself. Finally, 
pious caution prescribes a careful watch, not only on the hand, but on 
the tongue. Reckless words play a part in the tragic self-discovery, both 
of Oedipus and of Jocasta. 

300. See Jebb on vwydy. Add that the phrase here used, with 
mavra for the dpviBas of Aesch. Septem 26, prepares our minds, subtly 
and without our conscious perception of it, for the suggestion of xépdos 
as the motive of the seer, because we half remember the Homeric xépdea 
vwudv. The whole formula is a variant, more impressive and mysterious, 
of //, 1 70. 

305. I suppose no unsophisticated spectator would find any difficulty 
here. Yet it is necessary, since learned commentators have accused the 
seer of deliberate falsehood (because of lines 318, 329, 333, and 447), 
to insist upon the fact that a seer is never supposed to be omniscient. 
Just as Oedipus can make us feel how wonderful Teiresias must be, 
since he knows, by instinct, the terrible state of Theban affairs (the 
audience know, and feel that Teiresias knows, that Oedipus himself is 
the vécos of line 303), so he can also, quite naturally, assume that 
Teiresias will not know about Apollo’s oracle unless the messengers 
happen to have told him! A prophet knows just as much or as little as 
the God reveals to him at any given moment. The dramatist can there- 
fore assume that he knows just as much or as little as it is dramatically 
convenient for him to know. 

316. The prophet speaks, of course, of his own terrible knowledge. 
But the proverb applies tragically to Oedipus. His wisdom profits not ; 
and that is a guiding thought throughout this scene. It is a common- 
place that gui ipse stbi sapiens prodesse non quit, nequiquam sapit (Ennius 
Med. 15 Ribbeck) ; f Eur. fr. 905 pucd coduoryy éatts ody abtd cdgos, 
quoted by Cicero Fam. x11 15 together with Homer’s aya mpdccw kat 
drioow Videre, as a maxim of common prudence. Plato (Hip. Maj. 283 B) 
applies it mischievously to the sophists who make a good income out of 
their wisdom. But there is another and a higher meaning. True wisdom 
that really profits the possessor is found only in Sophrosyne: ro pa) 
Kaxws dpoveiy Geod Héyiorov ddpov. As I have shown (Introduction, 
Chap. tv), this idea is of the first importance for the understanding of 
our play. A cruder artist, as Sophocles himself is in the Aztigone, 
would make Oedipus fall decause he lacks Sophrosyne: actually he makes 
his fall more tremendous and more sympathetic by showing ¢hat he 
lacks it. The kind of wisdom that profits not is well-known. First, 
the wisdom that makes a man proud and obstinate like the Creon 
of the Antigone (707, 722, 726), is displayed by Oedipus in 396, 625. 


NOTES 121 


Secondly the confidence in his own intellect which makes a man rash and 
impetuous in his judgments appears at 617 ff. 

All this is perhaps obvious. I mention it because the phrase réAy 
Avew suggests to some critics a certain worldliness or cynicism— 
‘Wisdom that does not pay.’ If we avoid this erroneous impression we 
shall be better able to understand a similar remark of Creon about 
‘goods that involve solid advantage.’ See my note on 595. ‘True wisdom 
lies in knowledge of oneself, which in two senses Oedipus at present 
lacks: true gain lies in the modest mean. See also notes on 380, 398, 
434, 626. 

318. Those critics who consider that Sophocles was drawing a 
realistic picture of a rather fraudulent old ‘medicine-man’ naturally think 
that the reluctance of Teiresias is assumed. Some even suggest that he 
is hatefully egging on Oedipus to impiety. But prophets and seers—I 
do not know about ‘medicine-men’—are generally reluctant to speak 
unpleasant truths. Sophocles, who does make Teiresias human, makes 
him speak under stress of natural and justified anger. But I think that 
a consideration of //. 1 76f. and of Antig. 1031, 1060 will show that the 
reluctance to speak is not assumed. Moreover, had he known what 
truth he would have to face, Teiresias would, as he says, have made 
excuse for not appearing. tadra in line 317 is vaguer than Jebb thinks. 
It does not refer simply to the fact that ‘wisdom is terrible when it 
profits not the wise,’ but to ‘all this truth’ which now, for the first time, 
floods into the mind of the horrified seer. It is while Oedipus speaks 
that Teiresias first realises the whole truth, of which before he had vague 
premonitions. He knew it all before, in a sense, but only vaguely; and 
he had always lost sight of the full significance of what he knew. 
Sophocles makes him more impressive by not telling us exactly how 
much or how little his previous knowledge was. 

322-325. I have already remarked that 296 hints at the importance 
of restraint in word as well as deed. The hint is here made explicit. 
The King accuses the prophet of uttering lawless words: the reply is a 
warning as well as a rebuke. I believe that the prophet is perfectly 
sincere. He wishes to conceal his knowledge, that Oedipus is the 
murderer, not because he is afraid, but because he is human, and there- 
fore, at present, feels that he cannot bear to speak. But he knows that 
if anger takes him, he, like Oedipus, will lose control of his tongue. 
I apologise for this explanation of the obvious. My excuse must be 
that the scene is generally misunderstood. 

329. Teiresias is purposely ambiguous, because he is trying to 
prevent Oedipus from suspecting the truth. He shields him from truth 
by speaking of the secret as ‘My sorrows...not to call them thine.’ This 


122 NOTES 


version may be, as Prof. Platt suggests, ‘in the style of the poet Bunn,’ 
but after all Sophocles is writing Greek, not translation English, In view 
of the similar evasion in 320 and 332 of the fact that Prof. Platt has no 
real parallel for his extraordinary repetition of 7, and of the pointlessness 
(to me) of Elmsley’s interpretation, I have ventured to follow Jebb. If I 
am right, there is a dramatic value in the words. What makes Oedipus 
so quickly suspect that the old man’s silence is due to implication in 
the guilt of the murder? Oedipus does not suddenly, without all reason, 
simply because the prophet is rather irritatingly obstinate, accuse him of 
regicide! Teiresias, in his desire to spare the King, has put him only too 
effectively off the scent. The words ‘my sorrows’ sound to Oedipus 
like an inadvertent confession that the truth, if known, would somehow 
implicate Teiresias in the crime. Notice, as a subtle hint of the process 
of suspicion, the choice of the word évverdes in 330. The rage which 
induces so pious a man as Oedipus to speak line 334, is the fruit of 
that suspicion. The supreme merit of Sophocles is here. We see his 
characters thinking behind the words: and their thought outruns their 
words, as in real life. 

334. The insult of the phrase 6 xaxdv xaxwrre is realised by Oedipus, 
who checks himself with a quieter xat ydp.... The long and heavy words 
in 336 are due to this suppressed emotion. But it is a mistake to 
suppose that the leader of the chorus intervenes ‘to check him.’ Murray’s 
rendering ‘Thou devil,’ however, gives a good notion of the sort of effect 
given by the phrase of Oedipus, which is shocking to chorus and audience. 

337. It is of some importance to determine in what tone this speech 
should be delivered by an actor. Professor Murray, who thinks that 
Teiresias ought to be presented as ‘dark, unkempt, and sinister,’ 
naturally thinks here of a malignant old wretch, triumphing in venomous 
hate. I venture to disagree. Oedipus, in his curse and indeed throughout 
the play, uses language which to the audience is full of sinister meaning. 
In much the same way, the prophet, meaning to answer Oedipus with 
warning and rebuke, uses a phrase which to the audience suggests the 
terrible secret of which his mind is full. Normal phrases would be 77yv 
d€ ayy ola ris éorw or ota 8€ cou ovveotw épyy or THY 88 ov Suotay oboav 
or the like. The phrase which comes to the seer’s lips, not because he 
is malignant, but because his mind is at work in the effort to keep him- 
self from speaking wildly, actually hints at the incest of Jocasta. Had 
the words been spoken as Prof. Murray suggests, Oedipus could hardly 
have answered, as he does, with a restrained apology for his anger, and 
an appeal to patriotism. For Oedipus has, as the sequel shows, been 
haunted by fear of incest. The hint of Teiresias is so light that it can 
thrill the audience and yet be unnoticed by the king himself. Notice 


NOTES 123 


that Teiresias means, not ‘you are angry,’ but ‘you blame me for 
being stubborn and harsh, yet do not realise your own obstinacy.’ 
Oedipus, for the moment checked by the sense that he has indeed been 
too violent, interprets the speech as simply a rebuke for anger. The 
fundamental notion which makes all this kind of thing doubly effective 
for a Greek audience is stated, ¢.g., by Democritus (Diels 80 p. 403): 
aicxpov ta dOveia rodurpaypovéovtTa ayvoeiv Ta oixyia. 

340-341. For the third time Oedipus insists on the prophet’s duty 
to the city. This repeated appeal has its effect, and, for a moment, the 
prophet wavers. The event must come, even if he is silent. Shall he 
keep silence and be thought unpatriotic? As Oedipus presses home his 
appeal in 342, not, I think, scornfully, but earnestly, the seer again 
decides to spare himself, and, for the moment, the King. But he cannot, 
being human, resist the temptation of adding to his decision the provoking 
words which bring from Oedipus a burst of anger and an imputation of 
guilt which finally breaks down his determination to be silent. For the 
phrase in 341, ¢ Cassandra’s words Ag. 1239. 

345-346. Oedipus gives way to anger, and is therefore likely to be 
self-deceived. Cf émuroddlew ovre xp) tov Ovpov, adAAG Tov voov: | ovde 
els ovdev pet opyys peta tpdrov Bovdeverar (Epicharmus, Diels 43, 44 
p. 96). The reign of Law, says Aristotle, is better than the government 
of a monarch, because ‘in general that which is free from passion is 
better’ (in governing) ‘than that which is by nature subject to passion. 
Well, the law is free from passion, but every human soul necessarily 
subject to it’ (Pol. IY 15 5 1286a). Then he adds that democracy is 
preferable to monarchy because ‘when the individual is mastered by 
anger or some other passion of this kind, his judgment must necessarily 
be spoilt, whereas in a large mass of people it is a difficult business for 
all at the same moment to fall into rage and so go wrong (dpy:oOjvar Kai 
dpapreiv).’? Yet the wise Pericles (Thuc. 1 22), when he saw that his 
people were annoyed, zpos 7d wapov xaNéraivovtas Kal ov Ta apurta 
povodvras (notice this phrase, and see my remarks on line 316) did not 
call an assembly rod py dpyh te paAdAov 7 yvopy EvvedOovras eEapapretv. 
When the prudent Diodotus is opposing the suggestions of Creon, who 
would make Athens a tyrant, he: reminds his hearers that ‘the two things 
which are most opposed to good judgment are these :—hurry and anger’ 
raxos Kal dpyyv Thue. 111 42, o£ O.T. 617. 

The Homeric xpeioowy yap Bacidreds dre xwoerar dvdpi xépyi (ZZ. 1 80) 
reminds us how ancient is the proverbial connection of anger and king- 
ship: the tyrant is dpyyjv axpos (ws Sédefe, for instance, Cyaxares, 
Hdt. 1 73). So Croesus, having himself learnt Sophrosyne, advises 
Cyrus in dealing with Sardis, px rdvra @vp@ xpéo, and Cyrus wisely, 


124 NOTES 


treis THs Spyys, spares the city (Hdt. 1 155-1 56): later he vainly offers 
similar advice, 6 Baoted, py ravta Atkin Kai Oupe emitpere...° dyabov Tt 
mpovoov elvat, wopov dé 4 mpounOim (111 36). 

347. The audience, though not Teiresias, have seen this suspicion 
growing in the mind of the King. It is important, if we are to judge 
Teiresias fairly, to realise that the King’s accusationis to him asunexpected 
as is his own reply to Oedipus. 

353. Oedipus has no thought of the accusation which is to come. 
He does not even now quite realise what Teiresias means. That is made 
natural by the choice of the phrase, which means ‘a polluter of this 
land,’ not ‘the polluter whom you are seeking.’ 

356. Proverbial. Cf Soph. /7. 529 Gapoes: Néywv tadrnbes ov charg 
mote, 869 radnbés...rreiorov ioxde, Eur. /7. 343 Odpoe ro rou dixacov 
ioxver péya, Fr. Tr. Adesp. 30 N. p. 845 obk olda: tadrnbes yap aodadés 
paca, a refusal to speak, which might have been expressed in the form 
of 0.7. 569, 1520. 

357- Oecdipus does not exactly realise what Teiresias has meant, but 
assumes that he is talking at random. His assertion that the words were 
not taught the prophet by his art, is not in any way a reflection on the 
art of prophecy. All that is meant is that since the words are obviously 
false, they cannot be the product of the seer’s skill. But the audience 
perceive that the words zpds tot didaxGeis, Once spoken, leave their 
impression in the King’s mind. He is on the way to the suspicion that 
Creon set Teiresias his task ! : 

358. I believe this line is sincere and true. Teiresias spoke against 
his will, mastered by anger at a base accusation against himself. 

360. For éxreipa of. Hdt. m1 135. 

368. Whether we read rat’ or ravr’, the word deé shows that Oedipus 
does not clearly understand the last accusation of the seer. Lines 
366-367 are, in fact, ambiguous. Though for the audience, and, of 
course, for Teiresias they have only one clear reference (to the incest), 
to Oedipus, whose mind is full of the new, and terrible, suggestion that 
he has murdered Laius, they naturally suggest only the pollution of his 
marriage with the wife of a man whom he has killed. It is important to 
understand that this scene is not a vague collection of insults and 
reproaches, but a gradual development. Until 415 Oedipus has no 
thought of the oracles about incest and parricide. i 

371-374. The Greeks said: éarzoidv x’ eirynoba eros, roidv x’ éma- 
xovaats (//. XX 250), Or, as the wise Cheilon is said to have put it (Diels 
p- 521 1. 19, Mullach Vol. 1 p. 212), pa} xaxodAdyer tods mAyotov- 
<i 8€ py, dxovon ed’ ots Aurnbyoy. Pittacus also was supposed to have 
said (Diels p. 522 lL 13, Mullach Vol. 1 p. 213) axpayodvra (xaxo- 


NOTES 125 


mpayotvra Mullach) py dvefdie- ext yap rovtas vépeots. Gedv xaOyrat. 
Cf. Eur. fr. 130 tas cvppopas yap Tav Kaxws werpaydtwv | ovrw7oG” 
UBpio’, aditds oppwidv waGeiv, and Democritus (Diels 107 a p. 405) 
dévov avOpwrovs ovtas éx avOpuirwv Evuopais py yedav, aGAXr déAropup- 
era. 

376. Professor Murray’s defence of the reading od yap pe poipa mpods 
ye vod zeceiy is, at first sight, attractive. But I think it unlikely that 
Sophocles would allow Teiresias to be irrevelant, and, if this reading is 
right, irrelevant he must be. He must say ‘I am not fated to fall at your 
hands: Apollo who is immediately concerned with this present business, 
is quite competent to see to that also!’ -ye makes inevitable the suggestion 
that Teiresias is to fall by the hand of Apollo! Moreover, the obvious 
and generally accepted emendation adds much to the dramatic value of 
the scene. We have noticed hints of a coming suspicion of Creon. Now 
Oedipus, having scoffed at the notion that this blind old man, however 
venomous, can really overthrow him, is arrested by hearing: ‘It is not 
thy fate to fall by my hands....’ That is the moment at which the 
thought of Creon suddenly becomes vivid in the King’s mind. See also 
note on 379. 

379. 5é has been misunderstood. Jebb translates ‘Nay, Creon...’ 
and says that 6¢ introduces an objection as in 77. 729, O.C. 395, 1443. In 
the first two passages we could perfectly well have ‘Yes, but...,’ so that 
they are not really parallel. The third example is more like our own 
passage: and is, I think, to be explained in a similar way. The speaker 
proceeds, not quite as if he had not been interrupted, but keeping a 
formal connection with his own last words, though answering the inter- 
rupter. Polyneices says, ‘Seek not to persuade me...and these things...’: 
‘these things’ are in fact the possibilities suggested by Antigone in her cry 
of sorrow. Similarly, here, Teiresias says: ‘It is not thy fate to fall at 
my hands... Apollo is enough..., then hears the mention of Creon, and 
continues ‘And Creon....’ If I am right, we have a composition per- 
fectly balanced—not I, the seer, but Apollo, not Creon, your princely 
brother, but yourself! 

380 ff. Oedipus has understood only that Teiresias accuses him of 
being the murderer of Laius, polluted also by marriage with his victim’s 
wife. He has immediately leapt into the suspicion that Teiresias has 
been induced, partly by bribery, partly by his own jealousy of the King’s 
renown for wisdom, to trump up an accusation whose effect will be to 
place Creon on the throne. The long speech of Oedipus therefore marks 
a stage in the development of the plot. Morally also it marks a stage in 
the revelation of the King’s tendency—it is no more than a tendency— 
to become a typical ‘tyrant.’ One of the most fixed and commonplace 


126 NOTES 


characteristics of the type is the inability to trust true friends: another 
is a dislike and contempt for the wisdom of the intelligent critic. 

Zeus himself, according to Aeschylus, in his early days, when he was 
6 tov Oedv tipavvos (P.V. 222), tpaxds Kai wap éavta@ 7d Sixavoy Exwv 
(186), iSious vopors kparivwv (402), és Ta mavO’ ouds Biaros (736), was 
subject to this despotic failing: éveors yp ws rotro rp Tupavvids voonpa, 
rois pirouct pn merobevar. Time had to teach him a lesson (¢. O. TZ. 613, 
1213, O.C.'7). Tp. cot ‘Ep. t0d¢ Zeds tovros otk éxiorarat. | Tp. dAN 
exdidaoxe rav’ 6 ynparKwy xpovos (980). 

Out of many examples of the application of this commonplace I 
select: Eur. fr. 605: Kingship, rvpavvis, so much admired, is really 
wretched...forced to destroy its loyal friends by the fear of disloyalty, wy 
dpacwot tu. The exact reading is doubtful, but the general sense is 
certain. Xen. Hero 1 10: others think themselves safe from their 
enemies when they are within their own city walls: the tyrant is not safe 
even in his own house, but thinks that he must keep his watch there 
more than anywhere else. Isocr. epi eipyvys 181e: tyrants must 
amareiv Tois pidous Kal Tots éraipors Tots avTav. Aristotle Po/. H’ (E’) 11 
10 p. 1313 b: the power of a King is preserved by his friends: it is 
characteristic of a tyrant to distrust his friends. In Plut. MZor. 1524 
Cleobulus asserts that the King or tyrant can best secure his glory by 
‘trusting none of his associates.’ Following the stock ideas Dio Chrys. 
(1 § 81) represents Tyrannis as PoBoupévyn kai aywvidca kal drurrodeu Kal 
opyLouévn, and the tyrant (11 § 75) as vrovojoa taxus,...rovs Kakovds avgwv, 
tots kpeitroat POovar,...pirov ovdéva vouifwy odd éxwv: the good general 
counts friendship his best and most sacred possession, protects his 
happiness, not so much by material defences as by r7 riore trav pirov, 
but (111 § 116) the tyrant is of all men the most destitute of friendship: 
(v1 § 52) tyrants think ‘everything is full of plots and ambushes.’ Pindar 
Pyth. 11 70 may be cited for the benefit of those critics who do not 
realise that the stock characteristics of the bad King were already pro- 
verbial before the word tvpavvos had become an insult. When Pindar 
calls his patron zpats dorois, od pOovéwv ayabois, ~eivors 5& Oavpacros 
matyp, he is distinguishing Hiero from bad Kings who, preferring 
strangers to their own subjects, are harsh to their citizens and envious 
of the good. Hiero is a father to the foreigner, but he has not the 
defects of his qualities. The best commentary on this compliment will 
be found in Aristotle Po/. H’ (E’) 11 12 ff. 1314 a: the tyrant ‘dislikes 
everyone who has dignity or independence...he likes foreigners better 
than citizens...’ he is ‘at war with the good’ because of the notion that 
they are dangerous to his power. This notion has its influence on the 
stories which are told of tyrannical men: see, for instance, Thucydides 


NOTES 127 


on Pausanias, who was betrayed by Argilios, radcuxa wore dy atrod Kai 
murroraros éxeiv, as a result of his own suspicion and treachery (1 132). 
The temper of Cleon, when he urged the democracy to become an 
imperial tyrannis is no product of mythistoria, but his language is the 
language of this commonplace:—‘Your Empire is a tyranny, whose 
subjects plot against you and are governed against their will: they obey 
you, not because of the favours which you confer on them to your own 
detriment, but because of the advantage which your strength, not their 
good will, confers upon you.’ Subjects, says the Tyrant, are of necessity 
and always enemies of their ruler (Thuc. 111 37 and 40). 

In general, proverbial wisdom teaches, envy attacks all that is eminent, 
conspicuous. As Democritus (?) observes, the poor are exempt from the 
greatest of evils ériBovdyjv, pOdovov Kai pisos ois ot mover Kal’ yyépav 
guvoixotow (Mullach Vol. 1 p. 343 fr. 40). Flattering himself and his 
patron, Pindar asserts that envy ‘fastens ever on the good, and strives 
not against the inferior’ (Vem. vi11 23). Gods are made in the image of 
men, and naturally share this unpleasant characteristic. So the victorious 
athlete is exposed to envy: but Pindar’s treatment of this theme is most 
elaborate when he is celebrating Kings or ‘tyrants,’ since they have not 
only athletic success but great wealth and power; they are almost as 
happy as the gods. This explains, for instance, Pyth. 1: line 91 refers 
to the greed of the @@ovepoi, excited by the King’s prosperity: on this 
see my article, C. &. Vol. xxix Dec. 1915 p. 230. To a great King 
Pindar will say that it is better to be envied than to be pitied (Pyth. 1 85), 
but to a modest youth of Thebes, he will ‘condemn the lot of royalty,’ 
pteferring ‘the middle station,’ free from envy, enjoying a more lasting 
happiness (Pyth. x1 53). The general principle, that envy attacks all 
eminence, is stated in Eur. / 294 eis raxionya 8 6 POovos mydav 
pire. It attacks ra oepva (Fr. Tr. Adesp. 530 N. p. 943), and ra 
Aaprpa (Fr. Tr. Adesp. 547 N. p. 947). The political application is 
important in Thucydides. Pericles, for instance, asserts that envy is the 
inevitable penalty of imperial greatness (11 64). The commonplace gives 
the explanation of a difficult passage in Eur. 1. # 773-780, on which 
see my note in C. &. Vol. xxix May 1915 p. 68. See also [Plato] 
£p. Wi 317 C, D, to Dionysius, Dio Chrys. vi § 50 émupOovaratos aravtwv 
avOpwirwv o mieiota Kav Sixaiws exwv wore ovdeis Tupavvov émipOoveirepos 
€OTl. 

The application to superior intelligence is also common. Pindar, 
naturally, uses it against his rivals. In general (47. Tr. Adesp. 531 N. 
P- 943) amav 7d Nay owverov éor éxipOovov. As Medea knew (294 ff.), 
cleverness was suspected and disliked in ancient Greece as it is in English 
political life. The skilled craftsman or artist, says Euripides (7/7. 635), 


128 NOTES 


is more wretched than the common sort of men: because to be exposed 
to universal criticism. is a misfortune, not a good. 

The young men of Athens seemed to their parents over-clever, 
and in Thucydides the Corinthian complaint of the old-fashioned con- 
servatism of Sparta draws an illustration from the importance of ‘push 
and go’ in the arts (1 71 3), dvdyxyn womep Téxvys ael Ta ervyeyvomeva 
Kpareiv...mpds moAAa avayKxalopévors iévar Todds Kai érurexvycews Sei. 
That spirit gives life to the words of Oedipus, and the answer of Archi- 
damus that the Spartans are evBovAoi, apabéorepov tdv vopwv THs Urep- 
opias maSevdpevor...p7) TA axpeia ovverol dyav dvres, may also help us to 
understand this play. 

The fact that in the old superstition the gods themselves are envious 
adds dramatic value to the words of Oedipus. It is not true to say that 
he falls because of the divine envy: no such superstition is implied in 
this play. But he does behave, in his suspicious fear that Creon envies 
him his crown and that Teiresias envies his skill in divination, with that 
heedlessness and over-confidence which traditionally characterised men 
whose great prosperity had excited the divine Nemesis. 

Notice that the association of wealth and kingship is proverbial, and 
that the point is intended by the poet to lead to the natural anxiety of 
the chorus at line 889. See Introduction p. xlviii. 

383. In spite of the symptoms of arrogance we are never allowed to 
lose sympathy with Oedipus. His rule is not a tyranny, but a good 
‘government’ and his powers were conferred upon him by a grateful 
city. This again is one of the proverbial methods by which the good 
King, as contrasted with the tyrant, wins his throne. In the heroic age, 
says Aristotle (Pol. I’ 14 11 1285 b), men became Kings of willing sub- 
jects, for this among other reasons: ‘because they had been the first 
benefactors of the people either in arts or in war.’ It was as evepyérys 
xara téxvnv that Oedipus, as we are here reminded, won his place. How 
important this is, we may judge from another remark of Aristotle (77. 
I’ 15 11 1286b): ‘They established Kings as a result of beneficence, 
which is a function only of the good.’ When Oedipus used the proverbial 
tag at 314-315, he was appealing to the principle on which his own 
authority as a good King was based. Add Eur. Oves¢. 1168: Agamemnon, 
as head of the Greek forces, 7p& aéweis, ob tdpavvos.... As usual, Thucy- 
dides has employed in his own way the familiar commonplace: Athens 
asserts to Lacedaemon that she obtained her Empire by beneficence: 
she does not deserve ovrws dyav éripOovws diaxeio bau, since it is not by 
force, ob Biacdpevor, but at the request of her allies that she has taken 
up the burden, airav denbévrwv. Presently she uses the more questionable 
argument, which tyrants also use. See Thuc. 1 75-76 and the further 


NOTES 129 


development, 11 63. In the light of this kind of parallel, we can realise 
the dramatic value of the cry of Oedipus at 628. 

388. 0ovos—xépdos go together: see e.g. Thuc. 111 84 2 ‘Save for the 
general overthrow of morality they would not have preferred Gain to that 
secure Innocence in which Envy would have lost its power of mischief.’ 

391. The suggestion has actually been made that the silence of Teire- 
sias was, in fact, deliberate and culpable. But prophets, though they may 
be wiser than other men, are not omniscient. Piety admits it at line 498 ff. 

398. At this point Oedipus definitely boasts of his intelligence as 
better than the skill of any seer. Even for those members of the audience 
who do not believe in seer-craft, the tone of the King is impious. The 
correct attitude is prescribed, e.g. in a maxim attributed to Bias ér: av 
dyabov mpdcons, Geovs, pi ceavtov air. (Diels p. 523.) 

403. old wep dpoveis, sc. kaxa Bruhn. The climax of the first move- 
ment is thus the assertion of Oedipus, 6 xaxdés dpovdy, that Teiresias 
ppovel kaxas. See 462. 

_ 408. The word rupavvis was used by Oedipus in 380 as the synonym 
of BaciA<ia, dpyy. Here, however, the insistence upon the right of free 
and equal speech, which Tyrants proverbially deny, and the use of the 
word xpata (see notes on 54, 1522) give a sinister sound to rvpavveis. 
No good King wishes his subjects to be dotAo. 

411. Not Creon, but Apollo himself, is the ‘patron’ of the prophet. 
Jebb’s note though otherwise excellent, misses this point. He makes 
Teiresias say: ‘I am not like a resident-alien who can plead before a 
civil tribunal only by the mouth of that patron under whom he is 
registered.’ This is true, but Teiresias also makes the audience realise 
that he zs, in a sense, a resident-alien, protected by no human Patron. 
He is Apollo’s representative. The use of zpoorarys in this play deserves 
attention. Oedipus, with a somewhat excessive respect, calls Teiresias 
himself zpooratny and ‘saviour’ in 304. In 881 the chorus call on the 
only sure defence; their Patron and shield is Apollo. 

413. This line illustrates the tragic effect which can be produced by 
a simple adaptation of a familiar moral. The commonplace is stated in 
Soph. /7. 837 GAN’ of Kaxws mpaccovtes od Kwhot povov, GAN’ odd’ Spavtes 
eivopiot Tappavy. 

415. The direct and simply worded question marks a definite stage 
in the drama. These words are the first which, without ambiguity, imply, 
not only that Oedipus is the murderer of his wife’s husband, but also 
that his parentage is somehow tainted. The first suggestion Oedipus can 
dismiss as the fruit of malicious and venal fraud. But this further question 
is different. The audience knows, vaguely, yet well enough to respond 
to the poet’s touch, that Oedipus has heard before, from Apollo himself, 


Ss. 9 


130 NOTES 


of the threatened parricide and incest. It was this fear that drove him to 
Thebes. Lines 414 ff. must make Oedipus think that, somehow, Teiresias 
knows of the oracle which he has kept secret even from his wife. Oedipus 
has no reason to suppose, and does not in fact at all suspect, that 
Teiresias is speaking of Jocasta and of Laius in line 417. Nor has he 
any reason to suppose that in 422 the prophet is speaking of the inces- 
tuous marriage. That line, like 414, and 366, is quite adequately 
explained by the alleged murder of his own wife’s consort. Only 424-425 
imply, if Oedipus were calm enough to see it, that the marriage of 422 
is incestuous as well as disastrous. I have often heard students object 
to this play that Oedipus must surely be peculiarly obtuse. When the 
play is acted it becomes clear that the poet has contrived always to ex- 
plain his hero’s failure at each moment to detect the meaning which is 
so plain to us who know the story. 

429. The renewed, and heightened anger of Oedipus is due to the 
new element which has been introduced at line 415. Oedipus is still 
indignant at the accusation of murder: he is now profoundly moved also 
by the discovery that Teiresias now knows something of his own secret 
fears, and is willing, as it appears, to make malicious use of his knowledge. 
Since Oedipus does not see the connection between the two denuncia- 
tions, he naturally is confirmed in his opinion that the prophet is malicious 
and unscrupulous. 

434. tovs éuovs has point. The house of the wise Oedipus is no 
place for a fool’s vanities. The line, like 398, betrays the intellectual 
pride of the hero. popa implies criminal folly: see Antigone’s words to 
Creon, Soph. Ant. 469-470. 

436. This is the first hint given by Teiresias that he knows who were 
the parents of Oedipus. The hint changes the whole manner of the king. 
He passes from contemptuous fury to eager questioning. To the audience 
who know the story vaguely this is a revelation of his whole mental life. 
It is at once plain that he has brooded long and anxiously on the question 
he now asks. I must repeat that the latter part of this encounter is not a 
mere repetition of the former. Down to 403 the chorus have supposed 
that they have understood all that has been said. After 407 they can 
say nothing, for they do not understand. 

438. The commonplace which makes this line even more tragic for 
a Greek audience than for us is set forth by Sosiphanes /7. 3 N. p. 820: 

® dvorvyeis pev rodAa, wadpa 8 GABior 
Bporoi, ti ceuviveobe tais éEovaiats, 
as &v 7 Suwxe héyyos & 7 adeirero; 
qv 8 evrvxire, pndey dvres cdPéws 

io” otpav@ ppoveire.... 


NOTES 131 


That passage contains many of the themes which are used in this play 
by Sophocles. There is the contrast between good luck and happiness, 
the arrogance and the instability of power, the nothingness of men, the 
pride which makes men count themselves equal with the gods. 

442. Good Luck is not Happiness. Oedipus, the man of Luck, is 
ruined by his own success. For his skill in answering the Sphinx gave 
him the fatal throne. That is the most important significance of this 
reply, though it is true that the prophet rather spitefully suggests that it 
was luck rather than skill (for this combination, ¢£ Hdt. 1 68 «ai ovvruxin 
xpnodpevos kai coin) which helped Oedipus to solve a problem, by which 
he himself had been baffled. This theme of Luck runs through the whole 
play. See 52, 80, and especially 977, 1080, 1526. For the contrast 
between luck and ¢pdvyois co Eupolis (IéAes, Kock Vol. 1 p. 314. 
fr. 205) & rods, wodus (Gf. O.T. 629) wis edruxys cb pGdrXov 7 Kadds ppoveis. 

443. A good example of the lofty moral freedom with which 
Sophocles treats the old themes. Oedipus uses these words ‘I care not,’ 
in a spirit of the noblest generosity. His generosity moves us the more 
because his words have the fatal ring of the recklessness which, to a 
Greek, is a signal of approaching calamity. At this point the climax is 
reached. There isa pause. Then Teiresias speaks very quietly. Oedipus 
answers with an effort to appear unmoved, followed by a return of scorn 
which is expressed with far less vigour and conviction than his earlier 
denunciation. Notice how different 445-446 are from 429-431. But 
before he goes the prophet turns back to deliver the message of denuncia- 
tion with which, as he now feels, he was sent by the god. 

453-456. Each point is important. The intellectual pride of this 
scene is symbolised by the light of the eyes which is to be put out. For 
wealth and a kingship, claiming, as the scene with Creon will show, not 
merely to share, but to possess the city of Thebes, there shall be given 
the life of a vagrant beggar in foreign lands. I mention this point because 
the importance of the theme of wealth and poverty has been missed, with 
disastrous results for the interpretation of 889 and 1513. That the ancient 
world appreciated the importance of this element in the play could be 
shown by many quotations. I will mention here only one anecdote. It 
is related by Arrian (Stob. Zc/. 4c. xxx 28, Gaisford ; Meineke Flori/. 
¢. XCvi1) that Socrates was invited to become a wealthy courtier by king 
Archelaus. His answer was a combination of the theme of Sufficiency 
(see line 1513) with the remark that the voice of Polus, the great actor, 
was ‘no more melodious in the role of Oedipus Tyrannus than in that of 
the vagrant beggar of Colonus.’ The scene which we have just witnessed 
has displayed the pride and the blindness of human intellect: the scene 
which is to follow will show the pride of riches and power, blinding the 
King to the worth of his loyal friend who preaches in vain the doctrine 


Q—2 


132 NOTES 


of the modest mean. Both scenes are vital, not only for the mechanical 
plot, but for the moral significance of the drama. 

462. The last words are not simply an expression of professional 
spite and triumph. As I have tried to show the theme of ppovnors is the 
keynote of the whole scene. See note on 403. 

A writer in the Classical Review,Vol. xxv p. 37 Feb. 1913, has revived 
a suggestion that Oedipus retires at the beginning of Teiresias’ last speech. 
In the Cambridge performance ‘The speech of Teiresias at 447 revealed 
so much that it seemed incredible that Oedipus should quietly retire at 
462 without opening his lips. Surely even if he remained deaf to the 
broad hints of the prophet, he could not have passed over such a speech 
without an angry retort.’ It must be remembered that even Mr Scott, 
the admirable Cambridge Oedipus, was not Polus and even our critical 
audience were not Athenians. What we tried, apparently unsuccessfully, to 
suggest was this: Oedipus at the end is filled with vague forebodings, not, 
indeed, because he suspects the whole truth (see my note on 415) but 
because the last words of Teiresias have stirred in him the memories of 
that fear which has haunted him since first he left the presence of Apollo 
at Delphi. The audience see only that he is deeply moved, too deeply 
moved to answer. They know that he has heard these prophecies before. 
The chorus realise nothing but the accusation of the murder of the 
King. The emotion and the silence of Oedipus here bear fruit in the 
scene with Jocasta. But neither here nor in that scene is the clue pro- 
vided which can make the King realise that the crime with which he is 
now charged is actually the fulfilment of the horrible fate foretold to him, 
not for the first time, in lines 457 ff. 

463. The MSS evidence (L 75e? corrected to ete, T’ ide corrected 
to «lwe) seems to me somewhat to favour «ide. The scholiast knows both 
readings. 

463 ff. Teiresias has just denounced Oedipus. Why do not the 
chorus at once express their horror? This song contains, as Jebb remarks, 
their reflections first upon the oracle of Apollo, secondly upon the 
denunciation of Teiresias. The formal arrangement corresponds to the 
order of the events witnessed since 215. But I venture to suggest that 
this is not a complete explanation. The chorus go back to the problem 
set by Apollo, not because they are unmoved by the last speeches 
of Teiresias, but because they have not understood them. The effect 
of what they have heard is shown in the emotional phrase appyr 
éppytwv, which is truer than they can realise. They are, indeed, vaguely 
horrified by the dreadful words they have just heard: but their inability 
to understand naturally makes them more ready to assume that the 
prophet is mistaken in what they suppose to be the main, the only 
intelligible, point, the accusation of murder. I think therefore, that, 


NOTES 133 


without insisting too much on the formal convention, we can claim that 
the audience is unlikely to feel the difficulty felt by Jebb. For the 
audience, of course, there is this great advantage in the arrangement. 
They have understood Teiresias, and they already feel that Oedipus is 
hotly beset by his pursuing fate. 

469. The effect of this line is heightened for the audience by the 
fact that they have heard the victim himself speak of Laius as one on 
whose head ‘Fortune has leapt’ (263). Fortune, which leapt on Laius, 
is to ruin Oedipus, as we were reminded at 442. We shall hear again of 
this fatal leaping. 

470. Apollo himself pursues his victim, armed with fire and lightning. 
I remarked on line 27 that the metaphor of a destructive fire would be 
developed in the sequel. In the first chorus the plague is again treated 
as a raging fire, and the gods who are invoked against it are implored to 
bring purifying flames to fight the flame. The thunderbolt of Zeus, the 
torches of Artemis and of Bacchus will be remembered. I pointed out 
at line 205 the omission of fire from the equipment of Apollo. The god 
of Light and Purification comes with arrows against the plague. His 
Jires are reserved for a more tragic use. Had the poet armed him with 
fire in the first chorus, we should not have been thrilled as now, without 
knowing why, we ave thrilled, by the fire and the lightning with which 
he leaps on Oedipus! Nor is it an accident that the same metaphor 
is continued in 474. The oracle is a flame: it flashes from Parnassus: 
it is alive, and tracks the sinner. 

478. I had already decided to accept, as Sclectnasin the reading of 
the first hand of L, zerpaios 6 ratpos, but Mr A. C. Pearson’s admirable 
note in C. Q. Vol x111 1919, p. 119, makes this reading certain. 

481. The oracles of this metaphor which fly, like Kéres, like the 
gadfly, about the distracted quarry of the god, may serve to illustrate 
the kind of use which Sophocles makes of his chorus. In the dialogue 
the surface of the sentences is severe, unmetaphorical, never loaded with 
ornament. Yet, as we know, in sentence after sentence every word is 
fraught with tragic ambiguities and ironies. The effect of the chorus 
upon our understanding of the dialogue is this: though the speakers speak 
as men, revealing their own minds and characters, never unnaturally, 
never bombastically or prettily, for us the air they breathe and the words 
they speak are full of the invisible arrows, stings, and flames, of the gods. 

499. Heracleitus (Diels 32 p. 67) is giving a new turn to the same 
commonplace when he says év 76 codév potvov A€yer Oar EOérex Kat od« 
e6érer Zyvds dvopa (cf. Aesch. Ag. 160). 

500. This is in no way impious. Cf. Aesch. fr. 391 apaprave: te 
kat gopot codwrepos and (with Campbell) Pindar Paean fr. 61. The 


134 NOTES 


most religious must admit that prophets sometimes err. The chorus are 
not only loyal, but prudent in refusing, even on the word of a great 
prophet, to believe an accusation which is not proved. In Aesch. Ag. 186 
pavtw ovtiva Weywv implies reproach. 

505. For the importance of dp@dv in this play see 87 note and 
Gf. 853, 1221. 

The vivid phrase zpiv (Soup’ dp6ov eros refers to a greater word and a 
more terrible sight than the chorus realise. For the moment, however, 
notice that éos here is recalled by éry in 513. 

508. The emotional value is heightened by the choice of phrase. 
When the ‘winged maiden’ came upon him, Oedipus in the test and 
trial proved wise and earned the love of the city which he served. 
In this later trial—as we know, but the chorus do not know—when 
Fortune and Apollo leap upon him, with the winged Kéres and the 
flying oracles, the test proves him blind in spite of wisdom, a bad 
citizen in spite of his love for Thebes. The scene which we have 
just witnessed has shown how Oedipus lacks ¢povyois. The scene of 
tyrannical injustice to Creon is also a necessary part of the moral 
development: for the audience ao¢ds looks back and aédvroXis hints at 
the scene which is to come. Finally the loyalty of the chorus, expressed 
in the last four lines, is sharply contrasted with the unjust suspicion of 
Oedipus, by the dramatic entry of Creon, whose éry recalls éros and 
whose kaxis (520-521) recalls xaxiav. Presently the title xaxds will be 
given to Oedipus, not by Teiresias, in spite of 334, not by Creon, in 
spite of 627, but by himself (1421). Observe the skill of the poet. Have 
you ever noticed the use of éos in 525, and then wondered why the 
word ézos seemed so natural at 1419? The dramatist, of course, did 
not intend us to notice it: but, whether the word was chosen at all 
these places by conscious art or by happy instinct, the choice is right. 
It is surprising that any editor has been found who could read rod 
IPOS... 

513. The scene which is to display the hero, not as a Tyrant, but 
as an heroic King driven by blind suspicion to the verge of tyranny, 
begins significantly with the words dvépes roAtrax. See my remarks on 
the opening scene of Aesch. Sez. in the note on line 1. 

514. tvpavvoyv means for Creon ‘Monarch’: but the context of 
suspicion inevitably makes an audience feel the contrast between 
moXirat and tiparvov. 

525. See note on 508, refer also, as Jebb directs, to 848, and you 
will see that in this play the central theme, the leaping into light of a 
fatal secret, influences the smallest phrase. Words are not simply 
‘uttered’ in this astonishing and tragic life: they ‘come out,’ they 


NOTES 135 


spring to light.’ rats éuats yvwpars rhetorically echoes, and protests 
against, the excuse of 524. 

530. The refusal of the chorus to criticise ‘our masters’ is really a 
tactful attempt to preserve loyalty both to Oedipus and to Creon. But 
it has for the audience a further dramatic point. It gives to Oedipus the 
name of Master, and reminds us of the perilous temptation which such 
power involves, just at the "moment when the King comes to meet the 
test of his royalty. Isocrates (zpés NixoxAéa 15 Cc) observes that one of 
the disadvantages under which tyrants labour is that avov$érnrot dared odor. 

533- Tas éuas oréyas reminds us of 434. Oedipus has unwittingly 
committed precisely the acts of which he accuses Creon. He has had 
the ‘effrontery’ to enter the house of the man whom he has slain, and 
whose crown he has unwittingly stolen. On the ground of a bare 
suspicion of a guilty intention Oedipus speaks as if Creon stood convicted 
of the guilty act. 

541-542. Not thus did Oedipus himself acquire his throne, but, as 
a good King, by good service. The doctrine that numbers and money, 
z.é., bribery and the support that bribery can win, are the sources of 
royal power, is the Tyrant’s creed. Suspicion of Creon makes Oedipus 
speak as if it were his own. It is characteristic of the Tyrant to cut off 
eminent citizens. Aristotle observes that the proverbial association of 
such conduct with tyrants is not altogether fair, since even democracies, 
by ostracism, get rid of ‘those who seem to predominate too much 
through their wealth or the number of their friends’ (7o/. IY 13 15-18 
1284a). This implies the proverbial connection with tyranny. Cf. Soph. 
Sr. 85 ta xpnpar avOpuroow eipioxer pidrovs, | adfis dé (?) timas, era 
TS Ureptatys | rvpavvidos Oaxodow ayxiotnv (?) édpav. Money is the 
motive which persuades men to assist a tyrant to his place, as it is the 
motive which makes men plot against him. See note on 380, and 
of. Theogn. 823 pyre tw’ adée tipavvov éx’ édmidi, xépdeow <ikwv, | wnre 
xteive.... It was thus that Peisistratus recovered his tyrannis, with the 
aid of Lygdamis who supplied xai xpyjara xai avdpas (Hdt. 1 61). 

544. For the claim to equal speech see line 408. Notice the different 
tone of Creon. Teiresias in claiming equal speech implied that Oedipus 
was a tyrant. Creon, who is reasonable and persuasive, reminds him of 
the wise and generous policy. The last three words represent a formula 
very popular in ancient wisdom. Thus, among the maxims attributed 
to the Seven Wise Men we find ya pabuy, axovaas voe (Mullach Vol. 1 
p- 217): Bias said voe xai tore tparre (Mullach Vol. 1 p. 215), Thales 
didacke Kal pavOave 7d dpwewov (Diels p. 522 1. 6). Cf [Pythag.] Aureum 
Carm. (Mullach Vol. 1 p. 194 lL. 30) zpyooe 8& pydey tav py ériotacat, 
GdXa, diddoxev | dooa xpewv. 


136 NOTES 


543-582. Creon now knows that Oedipus suspects him of an attempt 
to seize the throne, but does not know on what grounds he is suspected. 
He knows, of course, that the suspicion is false. In his patient effort to 
free the King from illusion, he must first induce a frame of mind which 
will make Oedipus consent to listen. The first attempt, based on the 
appeal to fairness and ¢povyets, fails. At 554 a second attempt begins 
with the request that Oedipus should at least state the ground of his 
suspicion. Oedipus in the second stage of the dialogue (555-573) 
attempts to convict Creon by eliciting an admission that the prophet is a 
liar. By prudent answers Creon elicits from Oedipus the statement of 
573- That point marks a second definite stage in the dialogue. Having 
wisely waited until the king has expressly charged him with a definite 
act of treachery, Creon proceeds to try to prove his innocence by showing 
that he has no motive for disloyalty. 574-582 thus mark a third stage. 
The main interest for the audience is in the temper of Oedipus. In the 
first stage his delusion is contrasted with the good sense of Creon whom 
he charges with the lack of ¢povnois: this is a repetition of the main 
motif of the Teiresias scene. In the second stage the refusal of Creon 
to speak without knowledge is contrasted with the rash assumptions of 
Oedipus, the wise man who prides himself on leaving no clue unconsidered. 
Of the third stage I speak below. In acting, a pause should be made 
after the important lines 542, 554, 573. 

548. See note on 508. 

558. Oedipus pauses to think before he speaks of Laius as murdered. 
He suspects Creon of having arranged the ‘disappearance,’ and therefore, 
like an accusing counsel, chooses his words. Creon, it is to be observed, 
does not know that Oedipus has been accused of this murder (574). He 
has only heard that the King, for some reason, suspects Teiresias of lying, 
and himself of instigating Teiresias to lie. His interruption may well 
seem to Oedipus like the attempt of a guilty man to appear stupid. To 
the audience it shows how far he is from understanding why Oedipus 
suspects him of treachery. 

576-582. The question of 576, which Oedipus scornfully answers, 
thinking it irrelevant, is the preliminary to 581. Creon is trying to show 
how little he has to gain by disloyalty. The argument chosen by Sophocles 
for this purpose has, however, a further dramatic value. Good Kings 
proverbially share their power, bad Kings will not brook any partnership. 
The audience are reminded that Oedipus has hitherto ruled as a good 
King, not as a Tyrant. Before the scene ends he will show that he is being 
driven by his suspicions to make the Tyrant’s claim to sole authority. 
Achilles, who said to Phoenix toov éuoi Bacideve, kal qyiov peipeo Tips 
(ZZ. 1X 616) (a passage recalled by Aristotle Po/. I’ 16 12 1287b), provides 


NOTES 137 


the text for those who praise this characteristic of the good King, 
just as the temper of which he is accused by Agamemnon (Z/. 1 287), 
COéhec wepi wavtTwv Enpevar addrAwv, | wavtwv pev xparéev Gere, TavTecot 
& dvacoev, becomes the stock attitude for the Tyrant. Agamemnon 
himself in his time of delusion, when, like Oedipus he cannot vojoa 
dpa mpdcow kai éricow, informs Achilles that he will seize Briseis 6¢p’ 
 <idijs | doco héprepds cips bev, orvyéy Se Kai GAXos | toov enol pacbae 
kal opowbyuevac avrnv. The excellent King of Eur. Suppliants has 
followed the doctrine of Achilles to its logical conclusion, and taken 
the whole state into democratic partnership. He delivers a magnificent 
tirade against tyranny (431 ff.) under which one single man usurps the 
place of the law and so violates the sacred right of iodrys. I shall have 
more to say on this topic later. For the moment it is enough to remark 
that whereas for us this little preface to Creon’s harangue may seem to 
make the performance drag, for an Athenian audience, who realise the 
nature of this second trial of Oedipus, all the preliminary fencing has 
been merely the preface to this moment when the vital point begins to 
emerge. Oedipus, at this moment, stands admittedly for a good King 
who does not grudge good men a share in his power. 

583. The whole speech is dramatically an appeal for ¢pdévycis, 
not merely an ingenious defence. Creon is to Oedipus as Solon was to 
Croesus, and Croesus, when he had learnt wisdom by suffering, to Cyrus 
and Cambyses. Before the fall of pride there is always found some wise 
counsellor of moderation. 

This line, therefore, has a higher moral significance than is implied, 
for instance, by Prof. Murray’s: ‘Do but follow me and scan | Thine own 
charge close.’ It means: ‘Not so, if you will hearken to the voice of 
reason instead of to the voice of passion.’ Creon is, indeed, a little 
priggish: but he is a preacher, trying to save Oedipus from a dangerous 
mood. A good ruler, according to [Democritus] (Diels 302 p. 445) and 
all sound Greek ideas, should have zpés pév rods xatpods Aoywopov, mpds 
Se rods evavtious TéApav, mpds St Tols UroreTraypévous evvorav. For didoins 
gavt Adyor in this sense cf. Hdt. 1 162, 111 45. 

585-586. The good King, as we have already noticed (see line 65 n.), 
wakes in order to watch over his people’s interests. The Tyrant cannot 
sleep because he fears for his crown. The mention here of the fears 
which accompany the royal power is thus relevant to the spiritual drama. 
Oedipus suspects Creon because, although he is a good King, he is not 
exempt from the tendency to suspicion which is characteristic of the 
bad King. The notion that the bad King lives in constant fear is, as 
H. Gomperz remarks, the ‘Grundton’ of all the later representations of 
the tyrant (Dio Chrys. v1 §38, Plato Rep. 1x 579 E). If a tyrant can say 


138 NOTES 


oderint dum metuant, a wise Greek will prefer to follow the advice of 
[Democritus] (Diels 302 p. 445) roOyrds elvar padrov 7} poPepos Kara Tov 
Biov mpoatpod: dv yap ravres poBodvra, tavras ofeirar. 

589. This line ought, in itself, to have shown the critics the dramatic 
importance of the speech. As Jebb remarks, the natural sequence would 
be ovr’ airés...od7 dAXw wapawoip av. By substituting the nominative 
construction the poet makes more vivid the appeal for a ‘sound mind’ 
which Creon is really addressing to Oedipus. owdpovety means eb dpoveir, 
and we have already learnt the importance of the theme. 

595. Jebb gives xépdea too narrow a sense, and so makes the 
whole passage sound frigid and calculating. ‘Honours which bring sub- 
stantial advantages—real power and personal comfort—as opposed to 
honours in which outward splendour is joined to heavier care’ are indeed 
the actual rewards of Creon’s moderation: but the general phrase in 
which he sums up his ambitions has a much higher application. All 
men seek ‘gain,’ or what they conceive to be ‘for their advantage.’ Only 
the right-minded seek their gain from ‘that which really profits.’ The 
wise Bias, when he was asked in what pursuit all men delight, replied, 
‘In the pursuit of gain’ (Diog. L. 1 87), and the wise Periander bade 
men ‘do nothing for the sake of money, since we should seek for our 
gains those gains that really profit ra xepdavra xepdaivew (Diog. L. 1 97). 
An evil gain, said the same sage, is a treasure of sorrow (Stob. Zc/. 3 
c.X 48 (10. 49 Meineke)). With this proverbial philosophy in mind, refer 
again to line 316 of our play. Teiresias, at the outset, speaks of ‘wisdom 
that profits not,’ and thereby sounds the dominant note of his encounter 
with the man of human wisdom. Creon speaks here of ‘gains that really 
profit,’ in the scene which reminds us that the wealth and power of a 
King profit him not without wisdom. As Democritus wrote (Diels 189 
P- 420) dpiorov avOpuirw tov Biov diuayev ws tAKioTa edOvpnOevT. Kal ws 
€Adxirra avinfévre: todo 8 av etn et Tis pH ext trois Ovnrotor Tas Hdovas 
movoiro and (40 p. 399) ovTe gwpacr ovTe xpypact edvdaovotow avOpwrrot, 
GX épbocivy Kai roAvppooivy. Cf. Theognis 197 ff. 

596. A normal answer to the greeting xaipe seems to have been yxa/pw. 
See Aesch. Ag. 544 Headlam, and <f Eur. Hec. 426. This fact, and the 
memory of the phrase xatpé wor, make it possible for Sophocles, without the 
ambiguity with which he is charged by some modern critics, to invent the 
phrase of the text. The meaning is: ‘all men greet me and wish me well.’ 

600. Those who have the curiosity to consult Jebb’s note will find 
a good instance of the confusion into which the best of critics may fall 
if they ignore the relevance of this moralising to Oedipus. 

609. The plea for justice is unavailing. Oedipus persists in his sus- 
picion, and acts upon it, though the way of certain proof has been offered 


NOTES 139 


in lines 603 ff. It is worth while to notice that, just as the recurrent xaxds of 
this scene is recalled in 1421, so the theme of Justice is recalled in 1420. 

609-610. Theognis combines the doctrine of the Measure, so im- 
portant for our play, with the superstition that the gods cheat men to 
their ruin, making good seem evil and evil good (401-406). This is the 
‘famous word revealed’ of ancient wisdom which is translated into lyric 
in Aniig. 621. The notion that the knowledge of good and evil is with- 
held from all men, and particularly from the wicked or ill-fated, is very 
familiar, and is not necessarily combined with the superstitious belief in 
the divine malevolence. See e.g. Solon 13 1. 65, Theog. 585 ff., 133 ff. 
Kings, in particular, since the loyalty of their subjects is their most 
precious possession and a surer defence than weapons and a bodyguard 
(Dio Chrys. 11 § 86 foll.), need the power of discrimination between the 
good and the bad. A fine dramatic use of this idea is made in Aesch. 
Ag. 807. The chorus warns the triumphant King of the importance of 
such discrimination. The words hint at danger from Clytaemnestra, and 
Agamemnon’s reply, as Headlam remarks, shows that he understands. 
Yet he is duped in the sequel by the flattery of the queen, and so en- 
ticed by her into sin and ruin. The dramatic value of such touches 
depends upon the familiarity of the ideas. When Pindar warns his royal 
patrons against false friends, and commends himself for a frank loyalty 
that dares to speak unpleasant truth, he is playing upon the same 
commonplace as the chorus of Aeschylus. In our play Creon is the 
friend who uses loyal candour. But the King has lost his power of dis- 
tinguishing friend from foe. 

It should be added that in the systematic development of the 
Tyrant’s character a more sinister trait emerged. It was denied that 
a Tyrant failed to make the important distinction, and it was suggested 
that his hatred of the good and his favours to the evil were the result 
of a deliberate policy. Eur. /oz 627 © tovs rovnpovs ydovn pidrovs exer, | 
éxOrovs 8 pice’ KatOaveiv PoBovmevos. Xen. Hiero v 1: ‘They know as 
well as ordinary men who is brave and wise and just: but instead of 
respecting such persons, they fear them....? How important this kind 
of thing is for the interpretation of our play may be gathered from state- 
ments like this of Aristotle (7o/. H’(E’) 11 15 1314a): ‘<Tyrants> are 
at enmity with men of sense and moderation (rots émvecxéor),’ among 
other reasons ‘because such men are loyal to themselves and to others 
and do not make accusations either against themselves or against others.’ 
Add the maxim ascribed to Pittacus (Mullach Vol. 1 p. 216) rév piAov 
Kaxas pn A€ye pydé Tov exOpov Hidrov yyod. 

611-612. It is to this proverb that Polydeuces appeals when he 
prays that he may die with his brother Castor (Pindar Mem. x 78): 


140 NOTES 


otxerar TYsd Hilwv TtaTwpery | puri: matpor F ev rovw murroi Bpordy | 
Kaparov peradapBaveww. 

613-615. The strength of this conclusion will not be apparent to 
hearers who are not aware how familiar is the connection of degadea 
(613) with edAdBeva (see 616-617 below): and also how important in 
Greek moralising poetry is this doctrine that Time is the one revealer 
of all truth. See Pindar O/ 1 33ff., 1 15 ff, x 7, 53, Vem. 1v 41 ff. 
The tragic significance of line 616 is obvious: notice that here again we 
have the combination 8dika1os )( kaxds which we heard at 609, and which 
I then suggested is recalled in its full significance at 1420-1421. Thales 
said ‘Time is the clearest and truest test cadéoraros édeyxos of all 
things: for it is Time that brings the truth to light’ (Stob. Aci 1 
c. vill 40). ‘Time is the parent and the judge of all things’ (77. 77. N.. 
p- xxi 9, xxiii 34). Though Time (0.C. 609, Az 656) and Change 
consume all things save the gods, yet, from Pindar to our own day 
(Pind. fr. 159 dvdpayv dixaiwy xpdvos owrnp Gpioros) it is a common notion 
that the best things tend to survive. Demosthenes vrép ®oppiwvos 
p- 953 ‘Time the best test for refuting liars.’ It is useless to conceal the 
truth, for Time, ‘who sees all, hears all,’ unfolds all (Soph. fv. 280, f 
O.C. 1448ff.). It is Time, says Euripides (/*. 60), that can teach the 
signs by which a good man and a bad can be known. In another sense 
also, Time is the great Teacher (Aesch. P.V. 955, Eur. /7. 291). 
[Lucian] Amores p. 435 ‘schoolmaster Time.’ This truth, also, we 
must not forget, since much in this play depends on our realisation that 
a good man (Maximus Serm. repi dpovycews, Mullach Vol. 1 p. 229 
11) should always ‘remember that which has already been, perform in 
act those things that are now at hand, and, about that which is still to 
come, be cautious (aopadieoGan).’ 

The particular turn which is given to the commonplace here is 
rightly explained by Hermann. See Ar. £Zcc/. 177 quoted by Blaydes. 
But the second line is not, as Jebb says, ‘prompted’ by ‘the Greek love 
of antithesis’ and ‘relevant to Creon’s point only as implying, “‘if I had 
been a traitor, you would probably have seen some symptom of it ere 
now.”’ That is what Creon means, no doubt. The effect for the 
audience is relevant, not to Creon, but to Oedipus himself. Have we 
forgotten the words of Teiresias (448)? One little day of glory, then.... 
I hope I may be acquitted of the apparent irrelevance, if I recall that 
Solon’s ambitious friends (Solon /~. 33 Bgk) would have accepted ‘a single 
day of royalty’ at the price of ruin (émurérpupOar of. 428) for themselves 
and their whole families. 

616-617. The chorus express what the audience have felt throughout 
the speech. If we regard the speech simply as Creon’s ‘defence “from 


NOTES 141 


probabilities,”’ it is, no doubt, possible to say that the scene flags. To 
the audience, not merely because they like argument and rhetoric 
(though they do like them), still less because they remember that an 
‘Agon’ is part of the ritual (whether or not an Agon really was a part 
of an alleged Dukduk-Dionysia), but chiefly because they care about 
the moral situation, every word has been tragically relevant. 

For Eulabeia, the only sure defence against evil, and for its connection 
with the doctrine of Due Measure, or Sophrosyne, see by all means 
Headlam’s note on Aesch. Ag. 995ff. Of course, however cautious 
Oedipus had been, however much he had relied for safety on his own 
moderation and the loyalty of his true friend, the harm was already 
really done, the sequel could still only have been calamity. But 
Sophocles uses the emotions which the old doctrine stirs, to heighten 
‘the tragedy of his hero.. Oedipus behaves to Creon as a man whom 
pride of power and suspicion of possible rivals have deprived of moral 
‘Caution.’ A Tyrant’s idea of caution is like that of the rival parties in 
the Corcyraean revolution (Thuc. 11 82 5): érBovAevoas S€ tis TuXeV 
éuveros, Kai Urovonoas ere Sewvorepos...dmAds 5& 6 POacas tov péAAovTa 
kakov Tt dpav éryveiro..., (83 2) wn wabeiv pGAdov tpoeoKdrovr 7 mieTEdoaL 
édivavto. May I anticipate the sequel by reminding you that these 
persons, also, like Oedipus, could not trust even an oath (83 2), od yap 
Hv 0 Siadvowv ovte Adyos éxupds ovTE dpxos PoBepos? But of course, 
Oedipus is not, like such persons, himself prepared to be forsworn. 
Finally notice the cause of all this kind of thing: ‘ambition and the 
desire for gain’ (82 8). The relevance of l. 889 could not have seemed 
doubtful to a Greek audience. 

617. ‘Slow and sure’ says an English proverb, and the Greeks had 
‘many proverbs expressing that kind of notion: émicpadis zpomérea: 
q yAdooad cou pH TpoTpExétw Tod vod: pice Td Taxd Aadeiv, wy duaprys: 
peravowa yap axodoviei: py oredde AaAdv: yrah pabwyv, dxovcas voe: 
Bovdevou xpdve, ériréAer auvtopws: voe kai tore mparre. See Mullach 
Vol. 1 p. 212ff. Theognis 633-634 Bovdcvov dis xai tpis, 6 Toi x’ éxi tov 
voov €X@n- | arnpds yap tor AGBpos avnp rede, Democritus (60 p. 401) 
mpoBovreverOar xpeiocov mpd tav mpdéewv 7} petavoeiv, [Pythag.] Aureum 
Carm. (Mullach Vol. 1p. 195 1. 39) Adyuras Se rpo Epyov, (J. 27) BovAeviou 
5 apo Epyov, 67ws py) papa wéAnrat. So Cambyses confesses (Hdt. 111 65) 
deioas Sé py araipebéw Hv apxnv mpos Tod adeAdeod, eroinca taxvTEpa 7 
coputepa. On ll. 345-346 we recalled the commonplace, used by 
Diodotus before the assembly, that Anger and Hurry are the two things 
most inimical to sound judgment. Thuc. v 70 shows, in a small 
incident, how deeply this notion has sunk into the Greek mind. An 
assembly meets: the Argives and the rest come évrdévws kai opyq 


142 NOTES 


xwpodrres, but the Spartans Bpadéws. Of course the Spartans prevail. 
How important is the application of this commonplace in the larger 
scheme of Thucydides—it is, in fact, ws éwi rd woAv, true, and therefore 
applicable to the facts of a true history—we begin to realise when we read 
of the fall of Themistocles, the typical Athenian (Thuc. 1 138) who, like 
Oedipus, oixe’a cuvéce: kal ovte rpopabar és avrnv ovdev ovte érypabur, 
(f. O.T. 397 ff.), was trav te wapaxpyya &° éhaxiorys Bovdijs kparurros 
yropwv, Kai Tov pedAdvtwv emi rhelotov apiotos eixaorys. Pausanias, in 
his pride, tH opyf ovrw xaXer7 éxpyoato aote pndéva SvvacOar mpoorevar 
(1 130). The ephors, however, though they were his enemies, behaved 
like true Spartans, whose habit is wy taxets elvar wept avdpds Saaptiatov 
avev avapduo Bytytwv Texpnpiov Bovdrcioai tt avyxeorov(I 132). Thucydides 
makes a rational use of the language of commonplace morality. The 
episode of Pausanias is, artistically, a preface to the application of the 
same formulae to the contrast and the struggle between the Athenian 
quickness of intelligence, and also of passion, and the slow Spartan 
caution. 

The quickness and the anger are combined e.g. in Eur. fv. 31 opyq 
yap doris eiéws xapilerar xaxds Tehevrg and in Eur. fr. 1032 7d 8 wKd 
TovTo Kal TO Aaubypov ppevar.... 

618-621. For the idea £ Thuc. 111 12 3, and the passages quoted 
above 616—617n. For the dramatic use of 6rav—the generalised subor- 
dinate clause, suddenly transformed into the particularised and vivid 
main clause with éué—see my article in C.R. Vol. xxv Sept 1913 
p. 185. . 

623. Creon expects, at the worst, to be banished. The reply of the 
King is dictated by anger, not by judgment, and is later ignored by 
Creon. For the moment Oedipus is represented as having taken one 
more step in the Tyrant’s path. The good maxim is xéAa€e xpivwv, adda 
pn Ovpovpevos (Demonax /”. 2, N. p. 827). Notice, however, that Oedipus 
does not here pronounce sentence: He only says BovAopa. Those who 
follow Triclinius in asserting at 1. 641 that ‘Creon lies,’ have missed 
this point. Quite naturally at 641 Creon spares Jocasta and himself by 
saying nothing of the King’s hasty declaration, and implying that he 
makes allowance for the King’s lack of self-control. 

624-625. I venture, in spite of Jebb’s Appendix, to transpose these 
lines. If they are printed as they appear in the MSS the best that can 
be done with them seems to be to adopt Jebb’s ws av, to give 1. 624 to 
Oedipus, 1. 625 to Creon, and to suppose that a line has fallen out. But 
all this is very difficult. The ‘jerkiness’ to which Jebb objects would be 
entirely removed if we could read ¢poveiv for pOoveiv, (The maxim of 
Cheilon (Mullach Vol. 1 p. 216), which appears as pu) Over Ovnrd, should 


NOTES 143 


be either px} dpdve Ovyrd (Ff. Plut. Mor. 1528) or py dover: <ppover> 
@vnta,as W. Headlam saw.) ¢povety must have occurred to many scholars, 
but has probably been rejected on metrical grounds. But in Aesch. Pers. 
782 véos éov véa dpove: is probably right. Unfortunately the Ionic 
colouring of the whole play diminishes the cogency of this example. I am 
inclined to think that in Aesch. fv. 399 16 yap Bpdreov oxépp’ ebjpepa 
dpovel, | kal murrdv ovdév paddAov 7} Karvod oxi, we have a genuine 
instance of the lengthening of a before this verb. If we retain pOoveiv 
we must suppose that Creon catches at the similarity between the two 
verbs. o is stressed: G. 329, 332, 642. 

626-627. The assertion by Oedipus that it is for his own interest 
that he thinks, shows how far he has moved from the spirit of line 64, 
or line 93. The reply of Creon drives home to the audience the contrast 
between the spirit of the stock good King and the spirit now displayed 
by Oedipus. That the Tyrant considers his own interest or ‘gain’ is pro- 
verbial. See Introduction, p. xlix. Important passages are Thuc. 1 17 
To ed? éavtadv povov mpoopwmevor, Aristotle Pol. Z’ (A’) 10 4 1295 a zpos 
7) odérepov aitrns cupdéepov, Lth. Nic. @ 12 2 1160b. Of course, as 
Plato suggests, all governments tend to do this, Hep. 338 £, cf. 341A 
(Laws 714, D), but it is especially the bad King who acts on this 
theory, since Athens is democratic and suspicious of all Kings, even of 
the good. Critics of the Demos say that it has all the characteristics of 
a Tyrant. See eg. Eur. Sup. 412. 

A good parallel to this exciting climax will be found in Eur. He/. 
1630 ff. pova yap ev, says the angry monarch who is about to behave 
tyrannically: and the moderating influence replies ot guovye..... Again 
at 1638 the monarch complains dpxémeo0" ap’, od kparodmev and receives 
the answer, dora dpav, ra 3 Exdex’ ov. 

The parallel with Antigone 736 ff. is obvious: KP. a\Aw yep 7) *poi 
xpy pe THD Gpxew xOoves; AIM. woALs yap ovK eo’ Aris avdpds eof Eves. 
KP. ov Tod Kparodvtos 7 7odis vopilerar; AIM. xadds épyuys y av od yijs 
apxots povos (of. O. 7. 54-58). The motif of dpovyors also appears, but is 
modified by the fact that a son is abusing his father (Azz. 727, 755). 

628. The proverbial wisdom which we must here remember is 
expressed in such maxims as py mpdtepov BactAcvew erixerpeiv mplv 7) 
gppovnoa (Dio 1v $70), wy dpxewv avontov ovra (Plut. AZor. 100 A), dpxwv 
kéope veavtov (Thales, Diels p. 522 1. 9, Mullach Vol. 1 p. 213), det 
tov érépwv péddovta apa, avtov éavrod mparov apxew (| Democritus], 
Diels 302 p. 445). 

629. That Oedipus, at the very moment of his claim to be above the 
limitations of a lawful King, appeals to the city as the source of his right, 
is significant. He is not a Tyrant, in spite of all. His cry gives Creon 


144 . NOTES 


the cue for the final reminder that, by his present conduct, Oedipus is 
denying the city’s rights. The cry and the answer appeal alike to moral, 
not to physical, forces. It is a mistake to suppose that a fight between 
the two princes is about to take place. Still more mistaken is the supposi- 
tion that each prince appeals to a faction among the citizens. It is a 
ordots yAdoons, not a free-fight, that demands the intervention of Jocasta. 
The issue is moral, and more impressive than any melodramatic brawl. 

630. Creon insists upon the true meaning of the word modus, Ant. 
737 mods yap od éo6 Aris avdpos éoF Eves. 

640-642. Whatever the correct reading, it is clear that Oedipus 
replies to Spaéca: or Spav with his pdvra. This emphatic repetition of the 
word of action is not accidental. As the scene began with deiv’ én it 
has come to its climax with the threat of ‘terrible deeds.’ See note on 508. 

The repetition of xaxoiv, xaxas, xaxp makes the reply of Oedipus much 
more vigorous than Jebb or Murray allow it to be. vw becomes emphatic 
as does o’ in 1. 626. 

645. The order of the words is not simply stylistic: the pause before 
éAo(uyv corresponds to the feeling of Creon, for whom this word is a 
serious matter. It was found at Cambridge that the actor at first had some 
difficulty in expressing the emotion: the reason was that, in general, 
students are not able to realise how comparatively unemphatic the end 
of a Greek sentence tends to become. There should be a pause 
before 643. The oath marks an important stage in the action. Soph. 
Jr. 431 opxov 8& rpoorebevtos erysedeorépa | Yuxn Karéoryn: diooa yap 
gurdocera, | pirwy re pep keis Geods awaptravev. Observe that these 
two reasons for believing that the oath is not lightly taken are recalled 
when, in 647-648, Jocasta appeals to Oedipus to believe. 

649. This scene depends for its effect first on the moral issue involved, 
secondly on the formal beauty of the speech and song. Those who make 
the mistake of supposing that Jocasta intervenes upon a scene of melo- 
dramatic brawling, will find it difficult to avoid a sense of unreality when 
the chorus bursts into lyric. The clear issue of 630 is followed by a tense 
moment of excitement, during which neither Oedipus nor Creon nor the 
chorus moves at all. But Jocasta is already standing as the central figure 
at the palace door. Upon her rebuke, each prince makes his formal 
reply, a charge that the other ‘does him evil.’ Then come the formal 
oath, the appeal of Jocasta, and finally the prayer of the chorus, more 
excited, but not out of keeping with what has gone before. 

When the formal beauty of this arrangement is preserved, we are 
able to appreciate what otherwise we shall miss: the place of this episode 
in the dramatic composition as a whole. At the outset a deputation of 
suppliants from the city appeared before the King, and based its appeal 


NOTES 145 


on his known wisdom. At the beginning of the encounter with Teiresias 
the King and his people became the suppliants, begging of the wisdom 
of the prophet an answer which they had not the wisdom to understand. 
See particularly 316-329. Now the people and Jocasta are suppliants of 
Oedipus. But it is no longer upon his acknowledged wisdom that they 
rest their hope. Their prayer is now that he will consent ‘to come to a 
sound mind.’ 

651. Bruhn, who remarks that vymws ‘klingt wunderlich: was 
kommt es hier auf Torheit oder Klugheit an?’ though he proceeds to 
admit that the word has moral associations (Z/. 145), has not realised 
the importance of the theme of dpévycts. It is the same editor—a learned 
and intelligent scholar in most matters—who wrote the unhappy words: 
‘Keine Interpretationskunst der Welt wird aus den Worten «i j1x) 76 xépdos 
Kepoavet dixaiws eine Beziehung auf...Oedipus herausdeuten kénnen: hier 
muss der Dichter auf etwas zielen, was ginzlich ausserhalb des Stiickes 
liegt’ [889]. . 

655. Just as the oath was enacted with solemn formality, so is the 
act of supplication. And the King is bound to respect both. Therefore 
he warns the chorus not to compel him without realising the responsibility 
they undertake. At 658 he is still trying to impress upon them the same 
thought, and the use of 6rav subtly avoids even the admission that the 
request has been made. See my remarks in C. &. Vol. xxvii Sept. 1913 
p. 188. 

656. I accept Bruhn’s reading which is based on the fact that the 
scholiast read pydéror (MSS pyor év). L has Adyoy, with a correction 
yo, A Adyw, T Aoyov. 

659. Cf 100, and 309. The King assumes the disloyalty of Creon 
and the falseness of Teiresias. He has no room in his mind for the: 
thought which the chorus still cherishes:—the prophet, they think, may, 
have been mistaken. 

660. The oath by the All-seeing Sun heightens once more the- 
dramatic appeal: first Creon, then the chorus, pledge their loyalty by 
oaths which, if they are not true, mean ruin. 665-667 recall Jocasta’s. 
first rebuke (636). Thus this lyrical drama begins and ends with the same- 
theme. This fact supports the reading réd (666) not ra 3 (MSS xai 
745). This point Mr Murray’s translation well indicates. There is a 
pause here. 

675. Cf Cleaenetus /r. 2 N. p. 807 Avry yap dpyy 7 cis Ga Wyijs 
térov | éhOdvra pavia trois éxover yiyverat. Though Oedipus yields, he is 
still angry, and (Eur. /*. 799) dorep Ovytov cat 16 cap? quay edu | odrw- 
mpoojker pnde THY d6pynv éxew | GOdvarov dots cwdpoveiv éxiorara: cf. line: 
589 for the last words. So Ar. Tr. Adesp. 79 N. p. 854 a@dvarov épyjv 


Ss. Io 


146 NOTES 


py dvracce Ovntos dv. These lines contain the last and most solemn 
warning that Oedipus is to hear: they are not spoken with hate. 

676. The restraint for which I have pleaded will bring its reward in 
the tragic excitement of this line. Suddenly the passion of Oedipus 
breaks out. When Creon, with his quiet ropevoopa: (cf. 444) leaves the 
theatre, we realise that the appeal for wisdom has failed. The King is, in 
more than the literal sense, dyvdros. Unless we have realised throughout 
the scene that it is Oedipus who is on his trial, we shall fail to feel the 
dramatic significance of the exit of his wise counsellor. How violent is. 
the outburst of the emotion which Oedipus has been trying in vain to 
control, we can gather from his silence after 676. At 687 he speaks again, 
but he is exhausted by the mental crisis through which he has just 
passed. It is the passion displayed at 676 and in the following 
moments that makes it possible for the chorus to speak as they do 
at 689. 

That Jebb is right in taking dyvws here also as active I do not doubt. 
Kugler’s argument that ddxyois dyvws Adywv is practically the same as 
ddpavys Aoyos, is sound, but does not prove that éyvws is passive. The 
Aoyos is dbavys, ignotum, but the ddxyors of the ddavys Adyos, the fumbling 
for its meaning and validity, is 7gzara. But when Jebb says ‘Oedipus 
was incensed against Creon without proof; on the other hand (8) Creon 
also (xa/) was incensed by the unjust accusation,’ I venture to think that 
he has overlooked Jocasta’s answer audoty dz’ abroiv; to which the chorus 
answer vaix.. Had they answered her next question, xat tis jv Adyos; 
they would have had to explain that in the case of Oedipus there was the 
fumbling after an explanation of the denunciation of Teiresias, and the 
indignation at its apparent injustice, and in the case of Creon the fumbling 
after an explanation of the suspicion of Oedipus and the indignation at 
ats injustice. Their ambiguous phrase covers do¢/ the quarrellers, in doth 
its clauses. And this is what the scholiast implies. 

677 ff. The word ayvus is used thrice in Sophocles with active sense, 
and the three examples, as is not surprising, are in the Oedipus. In 1133 
it helps the characterisation of the impertinent Corinthian with his @ 
yap ol3 ore katowev. In 677 it is used by a more violent xaraxpyors for 
dyvapovos, as Kugler remarks: it is chosen for the sake of its suggestion 
to the audience of the ignorance of Oedipus. In 681 the non-committal 
answer of the chorus to Jocasta’s question has been explained above. 

687-688. I believe that Jebb’s explanation is right, and that there 
is no excuse for rejecting the participles. The chorus, believing that both 
Creon and Oedipus are innocent, anxiously try to prevent further talk of 
the quarrel. Oedipus, convinced that Creon is his enemy, feels that the 
words of the chorus imply that nothing can be done to prevent Creon’s 


NOTES 147 


slander from spreading and leading to the banishment or death of its 
victim. Here the psychology of Oedipus is the same as it was in his 
youth (786). This point is obvious enough when the play is acted. 
Emendation which makes Oedipus cry ¢.g. 

So be it, thou wise counsellor! Make slight 

My wrong, and blunt my purpose ere it smite (Murray), 
makes the reply of the chorus practically irrelevant. Oedipus implies by 
his words opds ty’ jets x.7.4. that, by defending Creon, the chorus have 
- made inevitable his own condemnation. They answer the thought of 
the King. Notice that their appeal ‘that the matter should rest where 
it ceased’ is at this moment peculiarly tragic. It comes just before the 
process of revelation begins. 

700. It is a small detail, yet worth noticing, that Oedipus, having 
dismissed the loyal Creon, turns now from the loyal citizens. Only 
Jocasta remains—and she is to give him fresh reasons for anxiety, instead 
of comfort. 

718. Why did Laius thus mutilate the child? Not from uncalculating 
savagery, but in order that he might not be reared if he were found on 
the mountains, but left to die. The mention of ‘three days from the 
birth’ curiously corresponds to the ws tpirn ypépn TO madi exxeipevw 
éyévero of Hdt. 1 113. This somewhat strengthens the theory of some 
direct connection between the Cyrus episode of Herodotus and the 
story of Sophocles. 

719. The unusual rhythm is not certainly due to corruption, though 
Musgrave’s aBarov eis may be right. In any case the effect of the 
tribrach is dramatic. Jocasta has been described as ‘cold and heartless.’ 
This view is, I believe, indefensible. When the play is acted we realise 
that this story of the infant whom she has lost is the story of her life’s 
tragedy. She has never told anyone, not even Oedipus, of her secret. 
To-day, under stress of the longing to help and comfort her husband, 
she reveals, for his comfort, a secret which has oppressed her for years. 
Because she cares so much for him and desires above all to comfort him, 
she speaks coldly, turning her tragedy into an argument. But her pain 
emerges in the rhythm of this line. It is worth while to recall (without 
prejudice to the question whether Sophocles is influenced by Herodotus, 
or whether both are not introducing stock incidents of a familiar type of 
story) that the infant Cyrus was exposed (Hdt. 1 110) és 76 épypérarov 
Tov dpéwy, OKws av Taxiora diadOapein. The herdsman chosen by Harpagus 
was one who [ven] voids re érirydevoraras Kal opea Onpwdéorara. 

725. Cf. line 280 and /* 833. 

726. The words which were intended to reassure Oedipus, bidding 
him disregard the prophet’s accusation, have given him the first clue to 


10—2 


148 NOTES 


his guilt—the mention of the place at which Laius fell. It is characteristic 
of Oedipus that he becomes absorbed with any idea which seizes him, 
and neglects for the moment every other thought. Here he has heard 
nothing of Jocasta’s speech after l. 716. That is why the mention of the 
mutilation of the child passes quite unnoticed. Often in this play words 
are used which so plainly hint at the truth that a reader thinks it strange 
that Oedipus is still deceived. The explanation is seen by a spectator 
in the character of the king. For Oedipus, the voice of Jocasta goes on 
after line 716, but the words mean nothing. When the voice stops he 
begins to speak of the thoughts which 716 have stirred. 

729. I seemed to hear you say.... This phrase confirms the opinion 
of the hero’s psychology which I have expressed on line 726. 

732 ff. Throughout this dialogue the queen is anxiously watching 
Oedipus, not understanding the cause of his distress, very carefully 
answering in exact detail his questions. 

758 ff. There is an inconsistency, of no dramatic importance, between 
this line and 118. At 118 the audience certainly assumes that the 
escaped slave came home before anything had been heard of Oedipus. 
Here he arrives to find Oedipus on the throne. No audience would 
remember line 118. The object of Sophocles is, however, of dramatic 
importance. Jocasta, as she speaks lines 758-760, realises that the man 
may have had good reason for his request. There is fear in her voice at 
line 761. Then, with an effort, she pretends that she -has seen nothing 
sinister. That is the explanation of lines 763-764. From this point 
onwards we know that she fears the coming of this man. She ¢#znks 
that he will assert the guilt of Oedipus; after line 813 we know that she 
not only fears, but knows this fact. But she does not, it is important to 
remember, at all suspect that Oedipus is the child of whom she has spoken. 

774. Of course Jocasta knows that he is supposed to be the son of 
Polybus. He tells his story, like a King, in the grand manner. Smaller 
people might say, ‘My father, as you know....’ It is more important 
for us to understand that in this speech Oedipus 7s telling Jocasta a 
secret which he has kept from all his friends in Thebes. Just as Jocasta 
has lately revealed her life’s sorrow, so Oedipus now reveals a fear which 
has hung over him for many years. To the audience his behaviour in 
presence of Teiresias gave a hint of this secret fear. See note on line 462. 
Now, when Jocasta bids him disregard the prophet’s indictment, his. 
emotion makes him tell her that this is not the first occasion on which 
he has had reason to fear the truth of divination. She has appealed from 
the human prophet to the god himself. Oedipus fears that the prophet 
may be right, because the god, in whose truth he believes, has already 
uttered terrible prophecies of his fate. Only, again, it is important to 


NOTES 149 


notice that Oedipus in no way connects the Delphic prophecy with the 
death of Laius. If, as he now fears, he slew Laius, he is polluted and 
must leave Thebes. And surely, if this is true, he will some day incur 
the more dreadful pollution of which Apollo spoke. 

775. The word Awpis is spoken with a sense of the high dignity of 
the race. Here, as in 267, we feel the importance for Oedipus of such 
matters. 

nyopnv, I think, means ‘I lived,’ ‘I passed my days.’ Hesych. 
nyopnv: Supyov. SodoxA7js Ovéory Sevtépy. 

776. ‘The repetition of the word rixyn 773 is significant. See notes 
on 442, 977- 

779-780. ‘Three times Oedipus uses words which suggest that the 
taunt was not worth serious consideration. 

786. The psychology of Oedipus is masterly. He feels here, as he 
does when he thinks that Creon is at work against him, the creeping evil. 
His tragedy is heightened by the fact that evils far more terrible than he 
suspects are indeed secretly making their way. 

804-805. Though Oedipus is engrossed in his story, imagination 
making vivid every detail of a scene which he had almost forgotten, the 
poet has contrived that his words shall plainly show his legal innocence. 
He was attacked, and defended himself against the aggressor. Contrast 
this with Eur. Phoen. 41 ff. 

810. The delight of battle makes Oedipus, Jocasta and the audience 
for the moment forget the tragic meaning of the fight. We admire 
Oedipus as we pity him. There is nothing but enthusiasm in his voice 
as he cries xteivw dé rods S&iuravras. Then follows a long pause in which 
it is important to instruct the prompter not to prompt. At «i d@ ro féw... 
the voice of Oedipus is changed. 

825. Oedipus still thinks that even if he slew Laius and must leave 
Thebes, there is a chance of avoiding the greater pollution of parricide 
and incest. Only, he thinks, this means that he must remain an exile 
from Corinth as from Thebes. (L has pir éuBaredew ‘made by an 
early hand’ from pyjor’, or possibly from pH w’. T yy we Barevewv.) 

828. Cf 816, 1311. 

833. The fine effect of cvudopas here depends partly on the use of 
that word earlier in the play. See e.g. note on 44. 

841. The subtle use of zepicodv suggests the state of mind of 
Jocasta. To Oedipus she means to say: ‘ What of special note...’ as 
Jebb translates. To us she reveals her fear that she has spoken zdAd’ 
adyav (767). She knows that the hope of Oedipus is vain. 

848. Cf 525. 

851-858. I hope it is not necessary to argue against those who 


150 NOTES 


think that Jocasta is punished for impiety. But it must be clearly 
understood that she is not innocent. Here she goes much farther than 
at lines 707-712. It is not merely human ministers, but the god himself, 
whose word she now will disregard. The impiety springs not from her 
reason and her experience, as does the legitimate scepticism of 712, but 
from her love for Oedipus. She would now do or say anything which 
would save him from anxiety and spare him the knowledge that he slew 
her husband. 

853. Cf notes on 87, 505. 

855. 0 dvernvos surely confirms the opinion that Jocasta really cared 
about the death of her child. This word will prove of great dramatic 
value. Here Jocasta applies the epithet in her ignorance to Oedipus. 
We shall hear the same epithet again when she knows all that it means, 
in her unforgettable cry at line 1071. After that the chorus will give the 
title to their King, once happy (1303). Finally Oedipus (1308) will take - 
it for his own. 

859. ‘This is not a piece of significant impiety, but, as Jebb says, an 
almost mechanical assent. The contrast between the passionate desire 
of Oedipus for honour and for truth and the impetuous, loving, and un- 
scrupulous, attempt of Jocasta to escape from reality, is marked. At 
line 707 she bade him ‘listen to her’ adeis éavrov. He now bids her 
send for the eye-witness, nde rotr’ ays. 

863 ff. The membersofthechorusare normal, pious Greek gentlemen. 
If we recall the drama which they have witnessed, we shall not be 
surprised at their anxious comment. They have seen their land devastated 
by a blight and pestilence, and they have heard a trusted prophet declare 
that it is their King, a stranger who once saved the land from a somewhat 
similar catastrophe, who is responsible, because of an old pollution, for 
the present disaster. Though they cannot bring themselves to believe 
that Oedipus is guilty, they are not unmoved by such a suggestion. They 
know that, under a ‘faultless king, who, being like a god, maintains 
righteous judgment,’ not only are the people virtuous, but also the land 
and cattle are fertile. The Greek audience does not need to be reminded 
of this point of view, which becomes a commonplace of the later 
discussion of the good King and the bad. See e.g. Themist. xv p. 188 pf. 
The same orator (xv p. 191 C) uses the opening of the //ad as a stock 
example: we have seen that Sophocles also had in mind the quarrel and 
the pestilence of // 1. When the ‘shafts of the god’ ravaged the host 
for nine days, it was, Themistius reminds us, because of the harshness 
of the King to the priest: the people suffered though they had 
recommended pious moderation. Secondly, then, the chorus have seen 
the anger of Oedipus overcoming his reason, and making him insult the 


NOTES 151 


prophet, as Agamemnon insults Chrysis. They have seen their excellent 
King, the ‘ father of his people,’ filled with suspicions, like a Tyrant, and 
launching against his friend accusations, threats, claims to an over- 
whelming, lawless power, such as a Tyrant normally uses. Finally, they 
have heard from the queen a story of cruelty and impiety, from Oedipus 
talk of the dread of the most terrible pollutions. They have spoken, as 
piety enjoins, of the cautious fear dxvos (834) which these dangers, 
prophesied by Apollo himself, demand. The response has been from 
Jocasta an assertion of unbelief, and from Oedipus something like an 
acquiescence in that impious assertion. Now, if we remember that the 
chorus are actors in the drama, that, unlike the audience, they do not 
know the sequel and have heard this story to-day for the first time, can 
we wonder that they doubt whether, after all, in spite of their love and 
their knowledge of his past excellence, they ought not to believe that 
Oedipus is a ‘Tyrant’ rightly doomed ? That, as I have argued in the 
Introduction, is not the view of the audience: it is not even the settled 
conviction of the chorus. What they say is simply that they wonder and 
are distressed. 

They pray for purity and reverence. They assert that it is pride and 
violence that produce a Tyrant. They hope that Oedipus is not a Tyrant. 
Yet, if a man be tyrannical, naturally he must perish. And, indeed, 
there is another difficulty. The oracles must come true, if religion is to be 
saved. For the relevance of the whole poem I have argued on pp. xli ff. 
Here I will quote one of the later descriptions of Tyrant and good King, 
commonplace based upon the stock of popular morality, whether the 
particular mode of elaboration be that of Plato or Xenophon, Themistius, 
Dio, Plutarch or Julian. 

Dio (1 § 15) asserts that the good King is ‘ First of all, one that is a 
careful servant of the gods...and after the gods he cares for men.’ He 
shows himself ‘ placable and gentle to all men, since he thinks all men 
are his friends and well-wishers’ (§ 20). He ‘loves work more than many 
other men love pleasure or money’ (§21). In contrast with this ideal 
monarch, we hear of the tyrannical King: ‘A man who becomes, as a 
ruler, violent, unjust, lawless...insatiate of pleasure, insatiate of money, 
swift to suspicion, irreconcilable when he has fallen into anger, with a 
quick ear for slander, not amenable to the persuasion of reasonable words, 
cunning, a plotter, mean, obstinate, raising the base to eminence, bearing 
a grudge against the better sort,...one that thinks no man his friend and 
has no friend.’ That is, of course, no description of Oedipus, who is 
essentially the good King. But there is enough material there for a fair 
commentary on the attitude of our chorus! Do you think that the type 
is suggested by Nero or Caligula? Well, Plato’s Tyrant, a man full of 


152 NOTES 


fears and desires, compelled by some stroke of fortune (v6 twos rixys) 
to become a despot, one who, though he is not master of himself, essays 
to rule over others, becomes ‘ envious, suspicious, unjust, friendless, foul 
and impious, dvéovos,’ unfortunate himself and a cause of ill-fortune to 
others. The details of the picture are to be found, as I have pointed out 
in many notes and in the Introduction, before Plato, Xenophon or even 
Antisthenes created the stock formula. 

865. For the vouor here and xparivev in 903 of. Heracleitus (144 p. 78) 
rpéhovrat yap wares of avOpumeror vépor bd vos Tod Oeiov- Kparet dé ToTOd- 
tov bxécov ére, Kat efapKel Tact Kai Teptylyverat. 

866-867. Bruhn thinks that both strophe and antistrophe are 
corrupt (see Heskenrath’s metrical analysis in Bruhn p. 220) but that 
the antistrophe preserves the true rhythm. I agree with Jebb in thinking 
that the strophe is sound. The rhythm of these two lines combines the 
iambic effect of 863-865 with the logaoedic effect (if I may use the ex- 
pression) of the following lines. Thus -yvuu—-vur = -=yu-ve-. 

874. Literally ‘if a man be filled....’- The shift and the omission of 
the nominative t1s are made possible by the familiar sentiment. For the 
topic of wealth, satiety, insolence and ruin see Headlam’s lecture on the 
Agamemnon (Cambridge Praelections 1906) and his edition of that play. 
Wealth beyond measure tends to become wealth ‘that profits not,’ 
though the process is not inevitable. The good man’s Sophrosyne, which 
can be content with a modest sufficiency, is able to make good use of 
fortune’s lavishness. A wise man is modest in good luck, cheerful in 
bad. It is obvious that nothing we have hitherto witnessed justifies the 
inference that Oedipus is a man ‘unable to bear’ good fortune. Only, 
the chorus feel, his conduct has shown signs of a dangerous temper. 
In the immediate sequel, Jocasta will be thrown into a state of desperate 
boldness by an apparent stroke of good luck. Presently Oedipus will 
himself be seized by the same dangerous spirit of elation. 

876. I venture to suggest axporara tis 8° dvaBas for the MS reading 
axpotatay cicavaBao’, and to suppose that dvjp has fallen out after 
amoropov in 1. 877. 

885. The stock marks of a tyranny are mentioned. First Injustice. 
Plato coined a phrase, but not an idea, when he said that rvpavvis was 
9 éoxdrn dducia. That Oedipus has shown too little ‘fear’ for justice in 
the treatment of Creon is evident. On the other hand, he has not refused 
to ‘honour the gods and the shrines of the gods.’ But this also is charac- 
teristic of Tyrants, and the chorus, seeing his attitude to Teiresias, and 
hearing the impious words of Jocasta, fear that they are symptoms of 
worse. As Sophocles himself makes his hero say, 47. 1350, ‘Foradespotto 
be pious is not easy,’ rov ror réparvov eda eBeiv od padiov, a principle which 


NOTES 153 


is assumed in the epitaph of the princess Archedike (Thuc. v1 59), who, 
though her father, her brothers, her husband, and her children were 
TUpavvol, Was not carried away into wanton pride of mind. The proverbial 
origin of the whole picture, with its association of impiety, greed, and 
injustice, is given by Solon 4, 12-15: men grow rich by unjust means: 
they spare neither sacred property, nor state property: they steal, and 
prey upon one another: they do not respect the holy shrine of Justice. 
These persons are the ‘great’ men whose mischievous practices Solon 
has to check: if they continue, the result will be a despotism (9, 3). The 
association of impiety, greed, sexual violence persists in philosophical 
jargon: so that Ps.-Arist. rept dperay divides déiuxia into the three kinds, 
doéBe, theovegia, vBpis, 1251 a. Plato Rep. 568 D, 574 D may serve to 
illustrate the way in which the stock notion, older than Solon, that bad 
men rob the gods themselves, passes into the tyrant theme. Cp. Plutarch 
Mor. 330, ¥ for the tyrant’s @Andovia, dbedrys, and weovegfa Kal ddixia. 

889. If any of my readers are already convinced that this line can 
be properly said to refer to Oedipus, I apologise for arguing the matter 
again. But if I have failed to convince any reader, I will ask him to read 
the following summary of the proverbial cliches. 

1. All men seek their own advantage, most men seeking it in wealth. 
See Intr. p. xlviii, Solon 13, and Eur. fr. 794, where, by a characteristic 
piece of subtlety, the gods themselves are said to be subject to this uni- 
versal disease. This proverb is interpreted by Socrates in a noble sense, 
as meaning that all must love the highest when they see it. Since all 
men seek their own advantage, men sin only as a result of ignorance of 
good and evil! 

2. Bad men seek money without regard for virtue, by all means, 
good or bad. Eur. /. 758 ‘For bad men Gain takes precedence of 
Justice.’ Add Eur. fr. 459, 738, 341, 354, 378; 417, 419. 

3. Kingship and riches are proverbially associated. See Intr. p. xlix. 

‘Add Eur. fr. 420, Apollonides fr. 1 N. p. 825, 77. Tr. Adesp. 130 N. 
p- 867. @ 

4. Bad Kings are, therefore, proverbially persons who prefer ill- 
gotten gains to justice. In Eur. Heracleid. the play begins with a sad 
reflection from the excellent Iolaus to the effect that, in his experience, 
the unjust man who pursues gain at all costs, though a bad citizen and 
a bad friend, is, at any rate, ‘an excellent friend to himself.’ This is not 
merely an old man’s talk. It is the theme which the play is to contradict. 
The excellent king of Athens rejects the appeal to self-interest which 
is urged by the representative of the barbaric Eurystheus: Athens her- 
self shows generosity and clemency, and wins a reward that is truly a 
‘gain.’ 


154 NOTES 


In contrast with this pleasing Athenian picture, the wicked Theban 
Eteocles (Eur. Phoen. 524) remarks etrep yap aduxetv xpqj, Tupavvidos répt | 
xaAXuorov adtxeiv, a frank statement of a principle on which many people 
act, though they prefer to say (Plut. Mor. 18 E) rod pév dixaiov thy déxnow 
apvuco, | ra 8 épya tod wav Spavtos évOa xepdaveis. On the other hand, the 
good old Athenian king Erechtheus, when he acts as Polonius to a 
young prince, advises him to try to make his fortune, but by no means, 
if he wishes it to remain with him, to get it by injustice. (This speech 
well illustrates other Tyrant commonplaces: the youth is to shun ‘dis- 
graceful loves’ for fear of vengeance, and to choose frank friends, not 
flatterers, Eur. fr. 362.) We remember that Pericles, under whom the 
democracy was really v6 rod rpwrov avdpos apxy, Was xpnuatwv diapavds 
ddwpdratos (Thuc. 11 65 8), piAdzoXis re (cf. 880) kai xpnudtuw Kpeioowr. 

890-891. If we have once understood 889, I think we shall have no 
further difficulty. The Tyrant is proverbially lascivious, making the 
daughters and sons of the citizens the prey of his lust. Now of course 
this is not true of Oedipus. Nor does the chorus at all suggest that it 
is true. The language is vague enough to be a natural expression of the 
horror caused by the suggestion of possible future incest. Very skilfully 
Sophocles has made this suggestion contribute one more touch to the 
general sketch of the imaginary Tyrant. These lines are precisely like 
the rest of the chorus. Just as no one in the audience can possibly 
suppose that Sophocles means him to think that Oedipus is essentially 
unchaste, so no one will-think that he is essentially a greedy grabber of 
wealth, an impious mocker at the gods and insulter of shrines. He is 
human, and, like most human beings in high places, he shows symptoms 
of his kinship, through humanity, with Tyrants. That is all. The drama 
gains in strength, because fundamentally Oedipus is so far removed from 
all such pride and sin! He falls in spite of his virtues, into a calamity 
which piety, and the chorus, would fain reserve for monsters of wickedness. 

892. For the shafts of the god see 205 and note on 470. 

gOI. rdée, which Bruhn strangely’ takes to mean ‘this that I say’ 
must in this chorus mean ‘these oracles about which we are all thinking.’ 
For a somewhat similar vague use of a pronoun see line 317. 

903 ff. When we hear dA’ & xparivwvy, we may not, perhaps, re- 
member, but we are certainly moved by the fact that we have heard the 
same words before, in a very different context. Thus the priest addressed 
Oedipus (14) in the speech which made him almost equal with a god. 
The chorus, who would gladly defend their human zpoorarys, yet must 
cling at all costs to a greater champion than any man. Oedipus is a 
Master, who, they fear, is also behaving like a Tyrant. One Master there 
is greater than any human King. So the priest had urged Oedipus to 


NOTES 155 


save the city, reminding him that his good name of Saviour was at 
stake! (46-48). Now it is the name of Zeus Himself that is to be 
vindicated. We have learnt how Oedipus as King would claim sole right 
and sole authority. Zeus alone is really King of All Things. For the 
answer to this see line 1252. The effect of this contrast between the 
human, mortal, monarch with his kingdom of a day, and the eternal 
empire of Zeus is heightened by the use of the pronouns ¢é rav re cay... 
See also 497. 

The contrast between the mortal ruler and Zeus is appropriate to 
the Tyrant theme. We remember, ¢.g., how Pericles was described by 
comic poets (Cratinus @pd@rra:r, Koch Vol. 1 p. 35 jr. 71 Xeipwvres, 
Koch Vol. 1 p. 86 fr. 240 Srdows Sé kal rpecBvyevys Kpdvos a&dAjAowe 
puyevre | peyrorov tixretov tUpavvov, dv dy Kepadrnyepérav Geoi Kadeovow, 
fr. 241 “Hpay té of “Aoraciav tixre: xatamrvyootvn, Hermippus Moipat, 
Koch Vol. 1 p. 235 /7- 41, Telecleides ‘Hoiodo:., Koch Vol. 1p. 214 /7. 17, 
ddyAwv Spapatwv p. 220 fr. 42). 

A good dramatic application of the contrast is made by Aeschylus in 
Supp. 365 foll. The chorus try to persuade the constitutional King to 
exceed his authority. He refuses to act without the people (369, 398) 
but they cry (370): o¥ toe rods (of. O.T. 629, 630)...Kparvvets....povo- 
oxymtpoor 8 év Opdvois ypéos | wav émixpaivers. When he has gone to 
consult his people, we hear (524) avaé avdxrwv, paxdpwv paxaptate Kal 
Tehéwv TeAewwTatov Kparos, OABe Zed, and the result is announced in the 
words (623, 624) yKovcev...djpos..., Zedvs F éréxpavev réXos. 

907. The notion that the reference is to an oracle-collection, current 
under the name of Laius (Wilamowitz in Hermes 34 p. 76 ff.), is bound 
up with the perverse notion that this chorus is irrelevant and must be 
explained by contemporary politics. 

g11. Editors are very severe about Jocasta. She became sceptical 
for very good reasons, by no means frivolously, but by suffering. She 
has further dared to speak impiously, but not because of frivolity: un- 
less indeed it be frivolous to love a man more even than one’s own safety 
and virtue. Now, in her terrible anxiety ‘a thought has come to her’... 
to pray. She prays, tragically enough to the Apollo who stands at the 
palace door, because he is nearest, z.e., most intimately connected with 
her family. And Apollo as we know is to send the truth and the ruin. 
Bruhn says that all this characterises the frivolous queen. A thought 
occurs to her.... Yes, but the real dramatic value of that phrase is this. 
We have heard the chorus sing that religionis lost. Then, suddenly, as 
if to drive away all gloomy thoughts, the queen who is so soon to perish, 
comes with offerings and prayers to the god. It is true that she cares 
more for her husband than for any god! And that is tragic, not frivolous. 


156 NOTES 


914 ff. Passion, pain and fear: see note on 675. The hot fit of anger 
has been followed by a cold fit of fear. A wise man is moderate in ad- 
versity as in prosperity: among the maxims of the wise are these: ‘Be not 
grieved at every happening,’ 2) éri ravri Avoid (Periander, Mullach Vol. 1 
p. 215: see also zd. zd. p. 218); ‘In good fortune be not proud, nor cast 
down in evil fortune,’ aropotvra px taretvotcGa: (Cleobulus, Diels p. 521 
line 2, Mullach Vol. 1 p. 212); ‘In good luck be moderate, in bad be 
sensible,’ pérpios...cppdviyzos (Periander, Diels p. 523 line 17, Mullach 
Vol. 1 p. 214). Moreover, proverb says, one should always ‘reason as 
to the unknown by the known,’ ra agavi trois havepots Texpaipov (Solon, 
Diels p. 521 line 10, Mullach Vol. 1 p. 212). Oedipus, in fact, is now 
unbalanced in mind. As Dio remarks (111 § 34), 6 ddvvaros pév Opyiv 
émixatacyeiv...advvatos S¢ amwcacbac vrnv eviore pdevds Avmypod 
mapovrTos...advvatos d& THs Wuxis aredkaoa PdBov, ovdey wpeodvra ev Tots 
Sewvois dAAd Ta peyrota Brdrrovta, Tas odK avavdpos ovTOs opddpa; We all 
know the Horatian ideal, which is as ancient as the Greek literature, 
Odes 11 10 13, Sperat infestis, metuit secundis alteram sortem bene prae- 
paratum pectus. That is not attained by Oedipus. Of him we must think 
acuvetos dotis év PoBw piv acberys, | AaBov de pixpdv THs Tuxns Ppovet 
péya (Eur. fr. 735). As we shall see, both clauses apply to Oedipus. 
Yet, again, he is greater than any motto. His high courage, which 
shrinks from no truth, is the more moving because he is physically un- 
able to control his fear. 

923. Jocasta speaks as a Queen, and the last phrase is a prayer for 
Oedipus as King of Thebes. For the stock comparison see Aesch. 
Sept. 2. dxvodpev indicates the proper spirit of cautious fear. See 
line 834. 

924 ff. The rhyme is not entirely without effect. This Messenger 
from Corinth is not heroic, but an eager, rather vulgar, busybody, full 
of his great news and delighted with his own cleverness. 

928. The ambiguity ‘wife and mother...of his children’ is inten- 
tional. 

929. This reply is tragically significant. This scene is to prove that 
Jocasta and all she loves are, not merely not ‘happy,’ but of all human 
souls most miserable. The beginning of the final calamity is marked by 
the giving of the name of happy to the victim: the moral of all is that 
no man should be called happy till his end. 

932. So Polycrates in Hdt. 11 42 joOeis toicr éreou (of the fisher- 
man) answered xdpra te <b éxoinoas Kal xapis SutAén Tav Te Adywv Kal TOD 
dupov. Cf. Hdt. v 50 ovdeva yap Adyov everéa Aéyeats x.7.A. In view of 


the frequent use of Ionic by Sophocles I doubt if Jocasta means more 
than ‘good words.’ 


NOTES | “157 


937. These words are true, but in far different sense from that 
which the messenger intends. 

947. Jocasta prayed, and there came immediately what seemed like 
an answer of good import to her prayer. But she is not, as the Greeks 
said, ‘able to endure her good luck.’ Instead of thanks to the gods for 
this relief, she breaks out into fresh impiety. Of course the audience is 
intelligent enough to know that in fact the news is not good, but in- 
different: and that, pious or impious, Jocasta is doomed. But her fate 
is more tragic because of the spirit of blind confidence which now 
seizes her. Observe that it is Luck, she thinks, that has saved Oedipus. 

953. It is impossible to say exactly with what effect, but certainly 
not without some strengthening of the dramatic value of the language, 
we hear the words of line 687 again. 

957. The Messenger is naturally astonished to find that the part of 
his news which he expected to be received with sorrow arouses such 
excitement and such relief. 

g60. This is the same Oedipus, a King witha King’s suspicions, who 
has made the chorus so anxious for his character and fate. 

962. When Jocasta spoke of the death of Laius she spoke of the 
infant who should have lived to slay him as 6 dvernvos. See note on 
855. This 6 rAjpov has for the audience its effect, hardly noticed, but. 
intended by the poet, in relation to what is past and what is still 
to come. 

969. This line is important, and not always understood. Oedipus, 
for a moment, in the first shock of relief at hearing that he can no 
longer become the murderer of Polybus, has spoken of Delphi and of 
divination in the tone of Jocasta herself. But Oedipus, as his whole 
life’s adventure proves, is pious and believes Apollo. So, quite seriously, 
he thinks, after the first glad cry of human relief, that he must not 
presume—that, after all, oracles are often ambiguous. Perhaps the old 
king died of broken-hearted sorrow for his absent son. The general 
effect of the speech is rash and wicked: but this momentary recoil is 
sincere and pious and characteristic of the hero. Somewhat similar is 
the recoil of Creon before his own far more appalling impiety at 
Antig. 1043. The effect of Jocasta’s eager insistence is, naturally, to 
awake still more thoroughly his pious fear. 

972. agi ovdevds, ‘not important,’ though not necessarily uatrue: 
see 969, and & Hadt. 1 120 drooxyppavros tod évurrviou és pAaipov... 

977. This speech marks the height of the confidence, and wicked 

confidence, of Jocasta. To say that Luck governs all human affairs, that 
arandom life is best, that providence exists neither in man nor for man, and 
that nothing is to be feared, is to deny the fundamental doctrine of the 


158 NOTES 


Greek religion of Sophrosyne. Men should believe in Fortune, but not 
trust in Luck, réyyy vopue, roxy py wlorreve (Mullach Vol. 1 pp. 217, 218). 
They should honour the goddess Foresight, and look ever to the future, 
mpovotay Tia, Spa 7d pédAXov (7d. 7b.). Not only good fortune, but also good 
sense is necessary for a man’s prosperity, and good sense really means a 
modest sense of human limitations. When luck seems good, when winds 
are fair, we should most be on our guard: for good luck flatters us often 
to ruin. It is precisely because of the uncertainty of the morrow that we 
ought to be modest (Simonides 32 and 62), since ‘in a little time God 
changeth all things.’ —The queen has forgotten the law of the alternation 
of human good and evil, the theme, for example, of Pindar O/ un, 
where the house of Laius is cited as an instance. She ought to cry: 
‘Thank God for this small boon: and now py Opdoco. xpdvos dABov 
éhéprwv (O/. v1 97). See also O/. x11 1-13, where the invocation of the 
Saviour Fortune (cf O.Z7: 81) is combined with pious talk of the veiled 
future, the changes of fortune, the falseness of hope. When the sailors 
after the storm went on their way od reroWdres Tixy, they were not so 
relieved that ‘they couldn’t believe their luck’ but so schooled by their 
recent adventure that they ‘did not trust good Fortune’ (Aesch. Ag. 668). 
The right prayer for anyone who is lucky is this: viky 8 éwetrep éomer 
eurédus pévor (Ag. 854), uttered in a spirit not of boasting, but of caution. 
Men need for success both luck and calculation. Too often a piece of 
luck upsets the mental balance (Thuc. 111 97). Demosthenes, over 
persuaded, and also rq rixy éAmioas, attacks and is defeated. See the 
political application of this doctrine, which is true, not superstitious, in 
Thuc. 1v 18. True as it is, however, that good luck often turns men’s 
heads and leads them to disaster, it is not true that caution always spells 
safety. Nicias may serve as our example, who thought he could by a 
safe policy leave the name behind him of one that brought no disaster to 
his city, vouilov é« rod dxwdvvov todro EupBaivew Kai doris éXdxuoTa THXY 
atrov rapadiéwow (Thuc. v 16). It was significant of confusion and 
reversal of old moralities in the war that the pious Melians were 
destroyed because, forsooth, they ‘put their trust in their good luck,’ 
and must submit to the insult of a moral lecture on the danger of such 
confidence, delivered by the flushed and wicked persecutor (Thuc. v 
112, 113). I do not doubt it happened: the modern newspapers show 
that human nature has not changed! Add 11 45, 6, but do not forget, 
in view of Mr Cornford’s strange misconception, to temper your contempt 
for Thucydides by a quiet consideration of 1 140, 1. Plutarch (Mor. 
Pp. 97 E) rightly asserts that morality depends on a denial of the supre- 
macy of tux, and quotes 0.7. 110 as such a denial: men are superior 
to other animals, not in r¥xy, but in the possession of rov Aoyrpov Kal 


NOTES 159 


aH éripédeav Kai THY Tpovotav (98D). This merely repeats the doctrine of 
Democritus 119 p. 407 ‘men have created an image of Luck as the excuse 
for their own folly’: Bad yap ppovyoe tuxy paxerar. Let me conclude this 
long note with a reference to the wisdom attributed by Diog. L. 168 and 
70 to Cheilon: rpovota wepi trod péAAovtos, Aoywop@ Katadynrry, avdpds 
éorw apern, and yet pavtixyy py éxOaipev. The language betrays a later 
author than any Cheilon, but the wisdom is the wisdom of remote 
antiquity. See note on 617 and ¢& Hdt. 1 36 dyabov rt rpovoov iva: 
codov d¢ 7 tpounOin, and Epicharmus 269 ov peravoeiv dAXa rpovoeiv xpy 
Tov avopa tov codov. But zpovoa in our passage is ambiguous. Jocasta 
denies not only the importance of human caution, but also tod Oeiov 7 
mpovoin (Hdt. 111 108). 

979. Soph. /r. 287 rixre: ydp ovdtv éoOAdv cixaia oyodn. 

981. A serious suggestion intended to help Oedipus. Even if he 
cannot, like Jocasta, dismiss all fear of prophecy, he may at least assume 
that the oracle means nothing important. See line 970. It is very 
probable that Sophocles remembered Hippias (Hdt. vi 107). Similarly 
Astyages was bidden by the Magians, @dpoe:...xai Gupdv exe a&yabdv, 
when Cyrus had been called ‘King’ in a childish game. Astyages himself 
replied «ai avrés tavtn micictos yvwpny cipi...e&yxew te Tov dvetpov 
(cf. 1182) wai po Tov raida rodrov elvar dewov er ovdév (Hdt. 1 120). 

986. Jocasta has failed. Oedipus speaks in the spirit of pious 
caution. 

998. Eur. /*. 30 has this pathetic dAX’ ouws,—dAX’ dps | oixrpds Tis 
aiov matpidos éxdurety Opovs. 

1002. From the excessive fear of 917 Oedipus has passed to the 
éxvos of 986. He will soon be filled with a mad confidence. Just so 
did Jocasta pass from éxvos (922) to her bold and wicked mood (977). 
In his excessive fear and in his excessive confidence alike, Oedipus 
conforms to the ancient tragic psychology. Cf. Aesch. Persae 599 érav 
KAvowv | kaxdv éréAOy, wévra Sapatvay direct: | Grav 8 6 Sdaiuwv edpog, 
merolevat | Tov avrov aity daipov’ ovprety Tixns. 

1005. The messenger is deliberately presented as cynical and self- 
satisfied. The contrast between his pettiness and the greatness of Oedipus 
is the object of this characterisation. 

IOII. See note on 88. 

1023. This line is of great psychological importance. Oedipus, as 
we have seen in the note on line 726, tends to become absorbed with 
one idea at a time, and to forget all other thoughts. He is moved now 
by the memory of the love of his reputed father. This shows us that, at 
the supreme crisis, he is dominated by natural human affection. He has 
longed to know the truth of his parentage, not only because of the oracle 


160 NOTES 


which he fears, but also from the eagerness of a son to know his father 
and his mother. From this moment he forgets about his fears. He is 
absorbed by the thought that he may now at last find his parents. That 
is why he cannot understand Jocasta’s appeal. His own first fear is, 
now, that he may prove to be of servile origin: even that, however, he 
is noble enough to understand, matters little. Even if he be a slave, he 
has a father and a mother. Thus the moment of his most impious 
confidence is also a moment of his nobility. 

1025. Ifthe MSS had offered us rvywv we should have accepted it, 
but I think Bruhn is right to reject the emendation. Oedipus, absorbed 
by the news that Polybus is not his father and seized already by the 
fresh fear that he may be of servile origin has not noticed the form of 
the Corinthian’s statements. 1018, indeed, is ambiguous. At 1020 
Oedipus hears nothing after a@AX’ ov o” éyetvaro. For this trait in his 
character see note on line 726. The rather humorous mystification of 
etpwv is characteristic of the Corinthian and is spoilt if we accept tux. 

1026. Jocasta begins to understand. 

1029. Oedipus, critical of evidence where criticism is tragically 
misguided, wonders whether, after all, this messenger himself may 
be his father. These questions are pressed home in order to prove the 
good faith of etpwv. Their effect is to make Jocasta certain of the truth. 

1031. ‘Why, what ailed me, that you found me in evil plight (and 
so had to ‘save’ me)?’ L év xatpots AapBaves. Other MSS év xaupois pe 
X., €v kaxois pe A., and év kaxots A. Jebb accepts ayxaAaut, but evpwr 
does not imply that.the Corinthian ‘found’ Oedipus as a daby. That 
point is first made clear at line 1034. 

1032. Jocasta knows that Oedipus is her son. But until line 1ro42 
she struggles against the realisation of the knowledge. 

1035. The inference made by Oedipus has been missed by 
interpreters. If he was ‘found’ with his feet thus pierced and fastened 
together, it must have been as a daby. He has not yet known why his 
ancles are swollen. He now hears that it is through an act of mutilation 
which he must have remembered if it had occurred after infancy. 

1051. The naiveté of this guess would be intolerable to a modern 
dramatist. But to an audience which is interested in the important 
matters, it is acceptable and is justified by the effect of 1053. 

1056 ff. It is important that Jocasta should speak with a terrible 
self-control. If she screams, as did Mr Reinhardt’s Jocasta, Oedipus 
can hardly play his part and retain our sympathy. Moreover, her own 
exit will be revolting instead of tragic. 

1066-1067. Though we are far away from the simple moral issue 
of ¢dpdvyors which was the keynote of the Teiresias scene, and an 


NOTES 161 


important element in the Creon scene, the effect of all that we have 
heard heightens the tragic value of the refusal. 

1071. See note on line 855. 

1075. ow77s: see note on 1056. 

1076. We remember the cry of Eteocles in Aesch. Sepz. 690. 

The greatness of this tragic moment depends on the likeness and the 
unlikeness of the temper of Oedipus to that which we have already 
noticed in Jocasta. When good news came she bade her husband fear 
nothing, deny the value of foresight, and live at random. But her 
‘random’ life is really eixafa oxoA7, letting things slide. Oedipus, 
obsessed by the notion that he is about to discover his origin, has 
forgotten all fears. He challenges fortune; is prepared to face the worst 
and the best that truth can reveal. This is a spirit of nobler daring than 
Jocasta could conceive. Yet this also is impious: and the delusion 
grows in the mind of Oedipus, so that he passes from the excessive 
boldness of 1076 to the boasting of 1080 ff. 

1080. The theme of Tvxy has now reached its climax. Nunquam 
solido stetit superba felicitas: et ingentium imperiorum magna fastigia 
oblivione fragilitatis humanae collapsa sunt. The doomed man calls 
himself the son of Luck, Giver of Good. He forgets that Luck gives 
evil also. The relation of this theme to the general moral development 
would be evident to any Athenian. The doctrine which makes the words 
of Oedipus so significant is well stated by Euripides /*. 1073 

ov xpy mot opGais év Tuxas BeByxora 
efew Tov avrov dSaipov’ eis det Soxeiv- 

5 yap Geds rus, i Oedv ode xpn Kadeirv, 
kapver Evvwv Ta woAAa Tots adrois ae. 
Ovnrav dé Ovntds GABos* of 8 varepdpoves 
Kal TO wapdrte ToUTY TLTOUpEVOL 
eXeyxov EAaBov rHs TUxNs ev TO wabeiv. 

The same doctrine is stated in Eur. fr. 1074, 1075. The fundamental 
necessity is this: ‘Being man, remember the fortune that is common to 
all who are men,’ advOpwzos av, pepvyoo THs Kowijs TYxns (Hippothoon, 
Jr. UN. p. 827), dvOpurrea § dv tou mypar’ av tdxor Bporois (Aesch. Pers. 
7°06). Men should remember that ‘good luck is a gift to men that only 
_ a god can give’ (Aesch. Sef¢. 625) instead of which they make good luck 
itself their god, and ‘more than a god’ (Cho. 57, spoken of usurping 
Tyrants who inspire fear instead of awe), whereas really ‘not to be foolish 
in mind’ is ‘the greatest gift of god’ (Ag. 927). Thus Sophrosyne is the 
right attitude, and implies a recognition of the instability of human 
fortune, and of the dependence of men on the uncertain favour of 
heaven. 


Ss. It 


162 NOTES 


1081. Notice first that the mention of ‘the good gifts’ of Fortune 
gives a strength to the dramatic situation with regard to Jocasta, which 
has not been generally appreciated. The commonplace of Eur. /7. 1040 
will help us to understand: éav (Sys pds tos yppévov twa, | Aapmrpe te 
rAovry Kai yéver yavpovpevoy (this is exactly rhovatw xAéovra yévet), | ddpuv 
re peiLw THs TExNs emnpKédra, | TovTOU Taxelay véenecty EdOd rporddxa. Oedipus 
thinks that Jocasta is haughty, because of ‘wealth and birth’: he himself 
talks of Fortune giver of good gifts, as his origin, and boasts of his 
descent. He has forgotten that Luck is peyadddwpos GAN’ &BéBaros 
(Democritus, Diels 176 p. 417). Pious caution bids us remember that ra 
peydra Sapa ris tixys exer PoBov (Fr. Tr. Adesp. 547). Cf. Plut. Mor. 
702E tovs dradevrous kai duabeis 4 TUXxN piKpov éxxovpioaca mhovrols TiGiY 
} ddéats } dpxais, perewpovs yryvopevous edOds érideixvucr timrovras. The 
famous imageof Heracleitus (Diels 52 p. 69), aiv rais ore wailwv, rerrevov* 
maidos 8 7) BacAyin (recalled by Philo de vit. Moys. 1 p. 85, quoted by 
Mullach Vol. 1 p. 320, tvxns doraOuyrdrepov ovdév dvw Kal Kétw To 
dvOpureia merrevovons) is based on old moralities. Add Eupolis, ddA. 
Spaz. Koch Vol. 1 p. 353 /”- 356. The confident assertion ovk aripa- 
o$joopa rings ominously in ears which are familiar with the maxim, ov« 
gor. kakov averddxyntov avOpurrots, dAiyw St xpdvm wavra perappimrres Oeds 
(Simonides 62): aeArrov ovdév, ravra 8 eAmiLew xpewv says Euripides 
(fr. 761). On the other hand, the ‘expectations of them that lack under- 
standing are irrational’ (Democritus, Diels 292 p. 437). The result of the 
Pythagorean self-examination, the practical application of the yv@@t veav- 
rv, is this: yvwoy...pvow epi ravros Opotny, | dare oe pyre GeAT eAriley, 
pyre te AnOew ([Pythag.] Aureum Carm. Mullach Vol. 1p. 197 |. 52ff.). 

1082-1083. In calling the months his kinsmen, Oedipus is not 
merely adding a piece of rhetoric to his claim to be son of Luck. As 
moons wax, as seasons bring the great tree from the tiny shoot, so Oedipus, 
son of Fortune, has grown from the small estate of a wretched foundling 
to the magnificence of a throne. The changing months that saw him 
small, now see him great: they marked the stages, prescribed the limits, 
of his littleness, his growth and his splendour. As child of nature Oedipus 
claims that he has grown by nature’s fostering care. ‘He has faith in this 
Mother’ says Jebb. Well, pious caution says: tixynv vouile: Tixn py 
mioteve. Moons, like Fortune, wane as well as wax. The mention of the 
months recalls to the audience the cautious moral which Oedipus has 
forgotten (Soph. /r. 787): 

GAN odds aiet rorpos ev ruKve Oeod 
TpOoX@ kuKXetrae’ kal peraddrAdooe piow 
Gomrep cedyvys dys edppdvas Svo 
1 For the wheel cf Orphica x1x 6 ff. Mullach Vol. 1 p. 176. 


NOTES 163 


orinvat Sivart av ovror év popdy pias 
GAN’ é& adydov zparov épxerat véa 
mpocwra KaddAvvovea Kal mAnpovpevn— 
xuTav Tep atrys cbmpereotatyn pavij 
mad Svappéel....xari pyndev Epxerat. 

It will not be long before we hear the chorus sing that the generations 
of mankind are ica xai 76 wndév. Fortune changes with the seasons (Eur. 
Jr. 33°): there is the same cycle, growth and fading, in nature and in 
human life (Eur. fr. 415). Great cities become small, small become 
great: therefore, says Herodotus (1 5) tyv avOpwrninv émiotapevos cddat- 
povinv oddapa ev THvTG pévoveav erimvyropar dudotépwv Spoiws. 

1084. The suggestion that we should read rovaode for rowade is not, 
I think, happy. Oedipus is filled now not with the thought of the great- 
ness of his mother, Fortune, but rather of the greatness she has given him 
as his birthgift. The months, which saw him in his humble birth, see 
him in his greatness to-day: rovode suggests not merely ‘a son of rvyy,’ 
but also péyas. 

Objection to the rhythm ér zor’ aAdos is mistaken. Oedipus is now 
carried away by a spirit of exalted energy which is almost lyrical in effect. 
The iambic verse is stirred by his excitement. For é€A@o.u see line 87. 
The repeated é« helps to mark the dramatic climax. 

1086. Professor Murray thinks that this ‘joyous chorus strikes a 
curious note,’ but admits that the contrast with the succeeding tragedy 
is effective. He suggests the right line of interpretation when he adds 
that perhaps the chorus has caught the mood of Oedipus. Bruhn also 
perceives this fact. Jebb makes no remark, and it is clear from the 
musical setting which was provided for the Cambridge performance that 
many readers have missed the tragic significance of the King’s mad exal- 
tation. Here even Paris failed. M. Mounet-Sully delivered the King’s 
appeal to Fortune as the utterance of a depressed, almost despairing, 
hero, and the ladies who played the part of chorus attempted at line 1086 
to cheer and console the drooping King. The truth is that the speech of 
Oedipus marks the climax, not of his fear, but of his confidence, and 
that the chorus in which the elders, having caught the infection of the 
King’s rash mood, hail him as the son of a god, is the tragic development 
of the mofif introduced at line 31. The priest of Zeus addressed the prince 
to whom his people came as humble suppliants, not indeed as a god, 
but almost asa god. We have seen the King heap insults on the minister 
of Apollo. We have heard the chorus contrast the little wisdom and the 
short-lived power of mortals with the wisdom of Zeus and Apollo, the 
perfect power of the only eternal King. Now, just before the truth which 
he himself has sought shatters the happiness of the hero, he speaks 

II—2 


164 NOTES 


of himself as of something set apart from the vicissitudes of ordinary 
humanity, a favourite of the goddess Fortune, and her son. The chorus 
respond by hailing him as indeed a son of the immortals, child of Apollo, 
Pan, Hermes, Dionysus. 

10go. Since most scholars miss the dramatic value of the whole 
chorus, it is not surprising that they are puzzled by the mention of ‘to- 
morrow’s Full Moon.’ Bruhn remarks that the saga may have contained 
some explanation, now lost. Wolff, who is quoted by Jebb, quite rightly 
suggested that to an Athenian audience the allusion to the Pandia, a 
festival held at the full moon in Elaphebolion, would seem natural enough. 
But this does not explain why Sophocles thinks it worth while to mention 
the festival. I hope that my version will not seem too free. It cannot, 
I think, be seriously doubted that to an Athenian audience the effect was 
as obvious and as dramatic as I have tried to make it. Oedipus speaks 
of the months that have watched his rise to greatness, the moons of nature, 
waxing as their kinsman Oedipus waxes. The chorus seize the notion, 
_and cry that his full greatness shall yet be revealed...even at ‘to-morrow’s 
full moon festival.’ It is perhaps worth noticing in this connection that 
the Orphic Works and Days began, according to Tzetzes, with a promise 
of instruction drmws dv Tlav8ta LeAnvaty wremGorro | oumrvia vot Anpnrpos 
depowoow te Baxxov | dap’ avareureuevar cat érnravoy oABov émalew 
(Orphica Lv 15 ff. Mullach Vol. 1. p. 189). 

The reading is uncertain, but I believe that the interpretation of Jebb 
and Bruhn is right. Mr Harry’s suggestion azeipywyv is unsatisfactory: 
we ask why Cithaeron should think of trying to prevent such a con- 
summation! 

1095. tupavvos, Oedipus (Jebb), not the ‘princely house’ (Bruhn). 
That the mountain should be praised and worshipped because it pleases 
the King, is a dangerous indication of the King’s greatness. The use of 
the word rupavvois here is, again, significant. 

1103. These gods are chosen, ostensibly, because they are likely to 
haunt the mountains. For the combination of Pan and Loxias see 
Agamemnon 55. But, of course, Loxias has dramatic value here. 

1105. Dionysus is the god of wild enthusiasm: the mention of him 
here marks the climax of the choral excitement. It is not by accident 
that this passage recalls 204 ff., where Apollo, the mountain-ranging 
Artemis, and, finally, Bacchus with his train of Maenads are summoned 
to the rescue of Thebes. 

1110. Oedipus has remained on the palace steps, receiving the tribute 
of the chorus, who have worshipped him by their song. When the lyric 
is ended, there is a moment of tense silence. The old servant is seen 
approaching by the parodos, and the King speaks in the tones of self- 


NOTES 165 


restraint, like a judge, determined to sift all evidence, careful of his own 
utterance. That is the explanation of the precise statement of the follow- 
ing lines. Line 1111 recalls 82 and 105. The contrast between guessing 
and knowledge shows the effort of the King to recover the exact balance 
of a sane mind. 

1123. The answer is proud. 

1127. The effect of this answer is to confirm at once the Corinthian’s 
story. We must remember also that the lyric 1086 ff. has only just ended. 

1135-1136. The alteration of the text to véuwv....erAnoialey is 
pedantic, and destroys the life of the sentence: the Corinthian is eager, 
and excitedly changes his construction. The reason for this precise state- 
ment about the number of the flocks has strangely puzzled Bruhn. The 
Corinthian is really trying to kindle a spark of recollection in the mind 
ofthe older man. The professional detail at last serves his turn. It should 
be noticed that the old servant has no notion at present as to the identity 
of Oedipus with the long-forgotten infant. He has a secret on his mind, 
namely that Oedipus slew Laius. But he has no thought of the greater 
tragedy, and is not at present trying to conceal anything. He really does 
not remember the talkative Corinthian. 

1144. The eager question of the Corinthian arouses the rustic’s 
suspicion. 

1147. We remember such maxims as xpéocov ta oixyia édéyyew 
épaprnuata 7 Ta 60veia (Democritus, Diels 60 p. 401), and perceive that 
Oedipus himself Setrac xoAacrod. For the stress laid on ‘good words’ see 
notes on 296, 322. 

1152. At a hint of obstinacy Oedipus again losing self-control, 
speaks as a tyrant to a slave. 

1153. Oedipus has become more tyrannical since line 402. His 
conduct here reminds us of the tyrant Astyages in Hdt.1 116. Having 
asked xoOev AdBor rév waida kai ris cin 6 tapadovs (f. 1162 ff.), and having 
received a false answer, Astyages said ovx evBovdAeveo Oar (nev) érvOupeovta és 
avayxas peydAas amixvéerOar, dua te Aéywv tadtta éojpatve Trois Sopypdpoice 
AapBavew avrov. 6 dé dydpevos és Tas avd-yxas ovTw di Eparve Tov éovra Adyov. 

I155- The use of dvarnvos in the sense of dSvernvos éys is, as Jebb 
remarks, in agreement with Sophocles’ usage. But it would be hard to 
find a parallel for the nominative participle, referring to another person, 
which follows. The syntax of Sophocles is dramatic. The old man calls 
himself unhappy. But in his terror he uses a syntactical irregularity 
which for the audience puts the title of ‘unhappy’ upon Oedipus. See 
lines 855, 1071. 

1162. The thought that he may prove the son of a slave still haunts 
the king. In 1166 I accept Schaefer’s ravr’ for the MS reading rair’. 


166 NOTES 


1168. The old man’s answer leaves quite vague the question of 
parentage. Any member of Laius’ household, whether related to the 
king or not, might be described as the father of ‘one of the children of 
the house of Laius.’ Oedipus, still dreading that he is of servile birth, 
hopes to be told that his father was éyyevjs, and has no thought that 
Laius himself may prove to be the father. Add to the parallels between 
Oedipus and the infant Cyrus of Herodotus (see lines 718, 719, 1153, 
1174) the fact that the herdsman, when Harpagus gave him the child, 
at first thought rév twos oixeréwy elvar (Hdt. I 111). 

1170. Still the fear that he may be proved a slave, not the fear of 
the actual truth, is haunting him. 

1174. So Harpagus gave Cyrus to the herdsman for exposure és 76 
épnporarov Tay dpéwy, oxws av TaxioTa SiaOapein (Hdt. 1 110). See note 
on 719. 

1175. tAypwv means not simply ‘hard-hearted’—‘the wretch,’ as 
Jebb strongly phrases it—but also ‘poor wretched woman!’ The effect 
is human and tragic, and the application of the same epithet to Oedipus 
himself at 1194 heightens its value. 

1177. Oedipus now knows the truth, but, for one great moment, 
resists it. With a fine effort of self-control he manages to ask 
a question which seems to test the truth of the old man’s story. The 
simple answer, leaving no room for doubt, gives time for the change in 
the heroic spirit, which is expressed by the cry of line 1182. 

1182. Our emotions have been prepared for this ééyxo. See lines 
87, 1084. 

1186. For the general effect of such moralising compare Eur. /7. 332 
‘Consider the woes of others, and you will be better able to bear your 
own’: especially ...rods éx péyorov 6ABias tupavvides | 7d pndev ovtas. 

1197. The lucky shot which won complete happiness recalls the 
theme of rixn (442) and also the theme of xpdros. The phrase wav’ 
evdaipnovos is deliberately thrown into the form which recalls Zed mavr’ 
dvdoowv (904) and gives further value to wdvra...xpareiv in line 1522. 
The contrast which is thus suggested between mortals and the gods is 
driven home by the invocation of Zeus. We think of such common- 
places as the Homeric oi wep pvAAwv yevén... (Z/. vI 147), as developed, 
e.g., by Sophocles in fr. 535-6. Cf Musaeus (Mullach Vol. 1 p. 161 
1. 19 ff.) ws 8 avtws Kal pidra ver CeiSwpos dpovpa: | dAAa pev ev pedinow 
aropbiver, Ada dé pder- | ds 3 Kal dvOpurov yevén kai PddAXov EXiooe. 
The tragic fact is this: roAAois 6 Saiuwv ov Kat’ edvvoav ppevar, | peydda 
Sidwow evtuxnpar (cf 1081) GAN’ iva | ras Evppopas Ad Bwow emupaveotépas 
(Fr. Tr. Adesp. 82). And the moral, for mortals, is this: e& 8 dévots coe 
pndev adyewov more | ...€recOar, paxapiws exes ppevav. | Oedv yap a&ew 


NOTES 167 


Biorov, o% Ovntdv Soxeis (Dionysius fr. 2 N. p. 793). For waow avOpu- 
Tour, ovx yuiv povov, | 7) kal rapavrix’ 7 xpdvy Satpwv Biov | éodyre, Kovdeis 
da réAovs evdarpovet (Eur. /7. 273). In such moralising the blindness of 
man is a commonplace: we understand this play when we realise the 
feeling which produced, ¢.g., axOea yijs, <dwAa tervypéva, pndapa pdey | 
eiddres, oUTe kaxoto rporepyopevoro vonoat | Ppddpoves...ampovdnror (Orphica 
xxxu, Mullach Vol. 1 p. 181). 

1200. This and the following lines recall 47 ff. 

1213. It is a mistake to alter axov? to axwy. See my Introduction 
p- xxx, and notice that other evils, éxovra xovx dxovra are to follow 
(1230). 

The allusion to ‘All-seeing Time’ recalls 614 (on which see my note), 
and is made more impressive by our memory of the tragic confidence of 
1080 ff. 

1221. 1708 opOdyv <imeiv is the pathetic sequel to line 505 zpiv tdou, 
6pOov éxos. See the note there and on line 87. 

1223. The honourable title by which the elders are addressed has 
tragic value. Oedipus, who ra péyior’ ériunOy, has fallen from his estate. 
The counsellors remain, dei riynwpevor. 

1230-1231. The death of Jocasta, and the self-blinding of Oedipus 
are éxovra, This line is significant, and should prevent scholars from 
attributing to Sophocles a muddled notion that Oedipus is held respon- 
sible for the parricide and incest. Sophocles makes the moral distinction 
between the axov and éxov as clearly as any modern moralist. 

1231. An important maxim which gives its tragic value to Soph. 
Trach. 491. See my remarks in Proc. Camb. Phil. Soc. 1915 Lent Term 
p- 3. The fundamental doctrine, against which Oedipus by blinding 
himself has sinned, is well expressed in [Pythag.] Aur. Carm. 17 
(Mullach Vol. 1 p. 194) doca re Sammovinar r¥xais Bpotol aArye exovow | 
jv av poipay éxns, tavtnv hépe, pnd ayavaxrer. The choice of the word 
avaor gives the tragic application to the whole drama. 

1251, 1260 and 1276. In each of these lines there is an irregularity 
which seems odd and artificial to the grammarian. But the effect on 
the hearer is in each case natural and expressive of the emotion of the 
speaker. In 1251 the voice drops before awdAAvratz. In 1260 the 
excitement makes a participle unnecessary: it is not true that we supply 
évros. In 1276, whatever grammarians may think, no one who listens 
can fail to understand that it was the pins, not his eyes, that Oedipus 
raised. 

1282. Those who have supposed that the final moralising is spurious 
have ignored the beauty of the recurrent theme. The chorus, having 
heard the truth of the old evils, sing of the emptiness of human happi- 


168 NOTES 


ness. The slave who tells of the fresh evils, repeats their strain, now 
heightened by the greater tragedy. In the end, this theme forms the 
basis of a moral harmony. 

1300. The tragic sequel of lines 263, 829. 

1302. It is a mistake to avoid a quite legitimate metrical irregularity 
by reading Svornv’. There is here a good instance, not, I think, gene- 
rally appreciated, of the subtlety with which Sophocles modifies his 
idiom for dramatic effect. The use of dvernvos recalls 1155, on which 
see note. First Jocasta, then the old servant, unconsciously, now the 
chorus apply this title to the ‘happy prince.’ At line 1308 Oedipus takes 
the title, himself, as his own. But he does not say dveryvos dyra, which 
would be the normal form of phrase for an answer and assent to the 
words of the chorus. His cry dveryvos éyo is for him not an assent to 
the chorus but a spontaneous expression of feeling. For us, of course, 
it is a tragic assent. 

1316-1320. The first lyrical lamentation of Oedipus is marked by 
sudden cries of physical pain. He feels the darkness and the agony 
of his wounds. The purpose of these lines is to prepare us for the 
quieter scene which is to follow. The moral is to prevail over the 
physical. It is the memory of sorrows, not the stab of the blind eyes, 
that matters most. 

1321 ff. The first sign of the quieter mood is invested with a peculiar 
beauty. The voices of the chorus bring the realisation of the fact that 
human friendship survives. In his splendour Oedipus could not recognise 
his friend. That fact gives special value to 1324-1325. The sequel will 
be the scene with Creon. 

1329. For the significance of this moment see Introduction, p. xxx. 

1336. Lines 1321-1325 have established a bond of sympathy between 
the chorus and the hero. It is our sense of this deep affection that prevents 
us from misunderstanding the tone of the leader’s assent to the tragic 
words of Oedipus. In small troubles most people attempt to comfort the 
sufferer by making light of his calamity. Here is a situation in which 
love itself can only agree that death would have been better than life for 
the sufferer. 

1341. If the reading is right 6A€6pvov means ‘lost’ as Jebb says. 
But here, as often in Sophocles, the normal meaning is felt beneath the 
abnormal. Oedipus brought calamity not only to himself but to PRE 
and to Thebes. 

1347. I agree with Jebb that rod vod means ‘thy sense of thy mis- 
fortune.’ This makes me inclined to keep dvayvdva:, and to suppose 
that the chorus means, not ‘I wish I had never known you’ as in 
line 1356, but ‘would that you had not lived to recognise your destiny.’ 


NOTES 169 


It is possible, however, that rod vod refers to the voluntary act of self- 
blinding and évpqopas to the unavoidable disasters. We remember, in 
that case, the principle stated by Democritus (Diels 42 p. 399), wéya 76 
év Evudopjor ppoveiv & dei, which is certainly important for the under- 
standing of these final scenes. 

1369. The change to iambics marks a change in the mood of 
Oedipus. The reasoned defence of his act of self-mutilation serves not 
only to mark the transition to the calmer atmosphere of the Creon 
scene, but also to introduce the moz#f of the love for his children (1375 ff.), 
which lends comforting beauty to the final development of the com- 
position. From time to time the pain of Oedipus breaks out afresh, but 
it is now no longer the physical agony, but the pvjyn xaxov which is 
felt. See note on 1316 ff. 

1390. In the very act of explaining his self-blinding, Oedipus makes 
clear to himself the truth that blindness of the body cannot help the 
agony of mind. 

1409. After a long pause the king speaks quietly again. The last 
phase of this long rhesis derives much of its value from our memory 
of the earlier scenes in which suppliants have come to Oedipus. Notice 
ir in 1413 and compare 46-47. Again this scene with the chorus 
beautifully foreshadows the scene with Creon. 

1421. xaxés. This is no casual writing. The word which Oedipus 
now uses of himself is the word which he has so violently applied to his 
friend. See note on 76 and ¢. 334, 548, 627. 

1424 ff. These lines are not unsympathetic, but expressive of a pro- 
found religious feeling. Oedipus is polluted and a pollution to others. 

1433. The superlative xd«wrov heightens the effect which I have 
pointed out in my note on 1421. 

1436-1444. Again it is a mistake to suppose that Creon is un- 
sympathetic. The effect on Oedipus is obviously quite inconsistent 
with such an interpretation. Line 1444 indeed recalls line 1023. 

1494. I retain and translate the MS reading. Jebb accepts Kennedy’s 
traits gnats yovaiow. 

1513. That the right reading is ot xaipds del Sjv, Biov (Hartung, 
MSS 7od Biov) I hope that my whole commentary has proved. Here, as 
often, xatpés means not ‘opportunity,’ but the due ‘measure.’ This old 
use is often missed. In Hes. Of. 694 we have pérpa gvidoceoOat, 
xaipos 8 éxt waocw apioros, applied to the practical problem of the 
loading of a ship or a waggon. Headlam showed how Aeschylus de- 
veloped these ideas as metaphor. Paley was wrong in his ingenious 
attempt to find a reference to ‘season’ in the Hesiodic passage. When 
Pindar says (OZ. x111 47) éetar & ev Exdorw pérpov- vonoar Sé Karpds 


II—5 


170 NOTES 


dptrros, I venture, in spite of Gildersleeve, to think that xapés simply = 
pérpov. When Bacchylides says ravpouor 8& Ovarav tov amavra xpdvov 
Saluwv @wxev | tpdacovras év KaipG Todtoxpdtadov | yhpas ixvetoOar, zplv 
éy«tipoar dda, he does not mean ‘Few men are perfectly happy all the days 
of their life’ (Jebb 7. 21 ‘faring opportunely, 7.e., as they would wish at 
each successive step in life’), but ‘few have the happy life of moderate 
prosperity,’ darjpavrov dor’ amapxeiv (Aesch. Ag. 378). Cf [Pythag.] Aur. 
Carm. 34 (Mullach Vol. 1 p. 195) mérpov 8 A€yw 768 6 pH oO avijoe. 
Clement (.S#vom. v1 745) knew that well enough when he foolishly accused 
Euripides of plagiarising from this phrase of Bacchylides for his own 
keivos 8 dravrwy éoti paxapiitaros | ds dua réAovs Cav S6uaddy qoxnoev Biov. 
Add the use of xaip@ xataBaiver in Pindar Paean 11 34, pétpw karaBaivew 
Pyth. vir 78, Eur. fr. 893. So in [Pythag.] Aur. Carm. 37 (Mullach 
Vol. 1 p. 195) py Saravay rapa Kaipdv...und dveevBepos iobr- pérpov 9 
érl mac apiotov. 

For the contrast between tyranny and 6 xopos GL Eur. fr. 626. 
Democritus (Diels 191 p. 420) has a good sermon on the text of ‘cheerful 
content and the modest mean’: the really ‘lucky’ man (edrvyys) is he 
who is cheerful, 6 éxi perpiow xpypace edOvpovpevos (Diels 286 p. 437): 
men ought to recognise that human life is ddavpiy...xat dAvyoxpovior, 
ToAAoi te KNpol cupreppperyv Kal apynyavinot, dkws av TIS peTpins TE 
KTyowos eémyseAntar Kal apérpynta [?| él trois avayKxatowr tadaurwpen 
(Diels 286 p. 436). Democritus also uses the word xaipos as a synonym 
for pérpov (Diels 235 p. 427). 

1516. For the phrase cf Anth. App. Iv 22, 2 pydev ayav- Kxaipo 
mavra mpdceott kad. For the thought cf Eur. fr. 46 perpiws adyeiv, 
274, 418. The ‘modest measure,’ which is the prayer he has taught his 
children, Oedipus himself must learn, first by refraining from excess of 
lamentation, secondly by awaiting the decision of Delphi as to his 
future, thirdly by obedience, even when his children are led away. 

1517-1522. The value of these lines depends on our recollection 
of the scene with Teiresias, where human wisdom was pitted against the 
wisdom of a divinely inspired prophet, and of the scene with Creon him- 
self, in which Oedipus made his claim zdvra kpareiv. For wdvra kparety 
gf. the dialogue of Cleanthes (Mullach Vol. 1 p. 152) where @upds says: 
exo, Aoywrpé, ray 6 BovAopar woeiv, and Aoyiopos answers :<xal>faor 
Auxov ye. I need hardly say that @vpdés and Aoyipos have played their 
parts in our drama. 

1528. For the prevalence of this maxim see Schol. on Eur. Andr. 100 
where an epic fragment is cited, Eur. Heracleid. 863, Fr. Tr. Adesp. N. 
p. xxig, Soph. /7. 588. See also Dionysius /~. 3, N.p. 794. One of the noblest 
applications is made by Pericles in the Funeral Oration (Thuc. 11 44): 


NOTES 171 


the parents will make no lament, év rodvtpomors yap Evydopais ériotayrat 
tpadévtes, TO dé edrvyés ot Gv THs edmpereotdtys Adxwouw, woTep olde Viv, 
redevtis, tects dé Adays, Kai ols eddapovqcai Te 6 Bios Spoiws kal évrehevrpoat 
EvvewetpyOn. We may remember also the beautiful lines in which Phry- 
nichus (Motoa, Koch Vol. 1 p. 379 /7. 31) referred to the death of 
Sophocles : 

paxap Lopoxdéens, ds woddy xpdvov Prods 

amébavev eddaipmwv avip Kai de&ds- 

ToAds TomnTas Kal KaAds Tpaywdias 

kadas éreAcdrys ovdev irropeivas KaKov. 


APPENDIX ) 
THE LATER COMMONPLACE OF KING AND TYRANT 


In my commentary I have rarely referred to the late Graeco-Roman 
development of the tyrant type, because I desired to avoid the suspicion 
that I was importing into the interpretation of Sophocles the ideas of a 
later age. It may be interesting, however, to some of my readers, if I 
collect in an appendix a few specimens from the great mass of later 
commonplace. The ideas which were already current in the fifth century 
before Christ have become stereotyped and are applied by writers of 
courtly panegyric without discrimination to all emperors, good and bad. 

Take first the general contrast between the King and the Tyrant. 
‘It is impossible,’ says Themistius (1 p. 19 a), ‘to feel the same admiration 
for the intemperate as for the man of prudent moderation, for the passion- 
ate lover of gain as for the just, for the harsh and violent as for the man 
of gentle temper.’ True Royalty ‘rules with virtue, for the good of men, 
that is, of the governed’: tyranny rules ‘with vice, for nothing but its own 
enjoyment’ (11 p. 35 d). ‘I will be your instructor’ says this flatterer to 
the young Valentinian (1x p. 123d) ‘even as Phoenix was to the young 
Achilles: and thus you shall come to know what things you should say, 
and of what things you should be silent; what things it is good to do, 
and what it is more profitable not to do; when you should waken your 
wrath, and when you should lay it to sleep; what is the difference between 
an unlucky chance, an unjust deed, and a mistake; and that it is one 
thing to rule over free men, another thing to rule over servants: that the 
one is the supremacy of virtue, the other is the snatching of a gain from 
Luck.’ The good King (1 5 a) ‘is as far removed from desire for gain as 
he is from harshness,’ and he fights against the usurping tyrant ‘not for 
the sake of gain, nor to purchase undying fame, but because he loves 
that which is good in itself and would free the world.’ Again, we recognise 
the traits of Oedipus, when Dio, who is insisting that literature ought to 
incite great Kings not only to warlike achievement, but also to ‘peace and 
good-will and the honouring of the gods and the care of men,’ tells us 
that ‘Timotheos ought to have been able to do good to Alexander (Dio 1 
p- 2) ‘whenever he passed the due measure in expression of grief, or 
punished more sharply than was lawful or fair, or was harsh and angry 
against his own friends and comrades, or looked down upon his true and 
mortal parents.’ And the fault of Alexander was the fault of Oedipus :— 


APPENDIX 173 


he did not know himself. ‘What enemy,’ he asked, ‘shall I still have to 
fight after I have conquered the world?’ (Dio 1v 68) ‘One,’ answered 
Diogenes, ‘that you think you know better than all the world, yet one 
that you do not know.’ ‘Tell me who it is,’ cried the King, and the answer 
was, ‘I have long been telling you, but you will not listen. You are your 
own greatest enemy...for no one that is base and foolish knows himself.’ 

But it is not only in the general conception that the late convention 
illustrates our theme. In detail after detail we shall find that Oedipus is 
such a man as Themistius, Dio and Julian would recognise as typical of 
kingship, both in its nobler aspect and in its tendency to degenerate to 
tyranny. The King, like Oedipus, is father of his people. The phrase, ° 
we know, is Homeric. Herodotus remembers it when he tells us that 
Dareius was called the ‘merchant,’ Cambyses the ‘master,’ but Cyrus 
the ‘father’ of the people (Hdt. 11 19). When you turn to Themistius 
(1 17a), you will find that old theme duly elaborated. Cambyses was 
both harsh and careless of his responsibility: Cyrus was gentle (770s, 
the Homeric word) and devised all manner of good for his people. Again 
in Julian (1 9 a, 44), all this is assumed as commonplace. That brings 
us to a further point. The King is wakeful, since he is ever thinking of 
his people’s needs: the tyrant is kept awake by fear. So Oedipus in the 
watches of the night broods on his city’s trouble and seeks the remedy. 
All that is reminiscent of Homer’s Agamemnon, and you will find it all 
again elaborated in Themistius (vil 91a, Xv 187a, 195b), in Dio (111 51), 
and in Plutarch (Mor. 815d). Yet again the people look to the King’s 
wise aid because the King has experience: 


The tried man’s thought, 
And his alone, springs to the live event. 


Consult Julian (1 p. 12d) and you will understand what Sophocles is 
doing. Odysseus, like the Roman Emperors, needed ‘experience of many 
men and cities,’ though he was not called, like Roman Emperors, to rule 
great territories and many nations. This also is a commonplace. The 
helmsman of the state needs virtue (Themistius xv 196d) and virtue is 
nourished not merely by office, but by practice: the man ‘who holds the 
reins of cities and of peoples needs more experience than his subjects 
need’ (24. 197 b). 

The tendency to sudden anger, and the tendency to allow his 
passion to outstrip his reason, are not merely characteristic of Oedipus 
as a man but symptoms of the defect of his good royalty. That the 
good King has a ‘peaceful eye’ (Themistius 1 6d) is commonplace. See 
how Themistius speaks of wrathful Agamemnon ‘with his flashing eyes’ 
(vi11 111), depicted thus by the poet ‘not because Homer wished to 


174 APPENDIX 


attack Agamemnon, the divinely ordained King, but to show the danger 
of anger, which, in his case, nearly ruined all.’ Pursue the point, and 
you will find many parallels to our play. The King is most admirable 
because he does not let his passion win advantage over his judgment 
(1 7c): and ‘though his place gives him licence to do all things in anger, 
he is more gentle than the son of Ariston’ (11 30 c). His anger he salves 
with reason, and submits himself to the treatment of the physician Time 
(v1198c). This principle is applied to punishment, which must be neither 
excessive, nor imposed without due consideration. In general, ‘like 
Pittacus,’ a true King puts ‘forgiveness before requital’ (Julian 1 50). 
He does not make anger the judge, nor measure his requital by the 
measure of his wrath, but applies reason as the check to passion, and 
shows himself milder than the laws (Themistius vir 936). On the 
contrary, a Tyrant acts suddenly (Plutarch Aor. 782 c): ‘His vice, because 
his place allows it a free course, turns anger into execution and death, 
lust into adultery, desire of gain into confiscation: the word no sooner 
spoken than the offender is undone: one hint of suspicion, and the falsely 
accused is dead!’ When Lucian’s Phalaris is trying to prove that he has 
been a good King (11 p. 106), this is his plea: ‘I put back the accused, 
I allowed them to plead their cause, I brought forward the evidence, I 
clearly investigated every point, and then at last, when they themselves 
no longer denied their guilt, I punished.’ 

Surely all this throws light on the relations of Oedipus and Creon? — 
But I think we can get even closer to the poet’s conception here. Oedipus 
shared his authority with Creon. That was characteristic of his wise and 
temperate rule. The Tyrant will not share, but wishes ‘in all things to be 
the master.’ See, for this topic, Themistius (v1 passim), and notice that 
the Homeric precedent is duly cited. ‘You have in your own household 
your Phoenix’ (p. 81 c), ‘in your own household one to instruct you as to 
all that may be done and may be said.’ An elaborate treatment of the 
same theme will be found in Julian (1 17 b ff.). The King’s brothers are 
his fellow-rulers, whom he serves: to his friends he gives lavishly a 
share in free speech and in equal speech, as in all good things: he shares 
with all men his possessions: and (on p. 19d) we hear, in words that 
remind us of Creon’s wise admonitions, that such sharing is ‘not un- 
profitable’ since nothing is truly profitable that is not also good. 

Once more we are reminded of Oedipus when we consider the 
suspicions of the Tyrant. A good King loves his subjects and is loved 
bythem. A Tyrant fears as he is feared. A King’s best bodyguard is his 
subjects’ love, and his chief fear is lest his subjects suffer injury. And 
the subjects ‘do not fear him, but fear for him’ (Themistius 1 36a). So 
the subject prays (v1 80 d) ‘not to fear the sovereign, but to fear for him’ 


APPENDIX 175 


and prays that the Kingship may find its bodyguard in such sort of fear 
from all subjects. For the King’s generous fear for his subjects see 
Plutarch Mor. 781 c, where the theme is enlivened with some excellent 
anecdotes concerning the shifts to which the terrified Tyrants are put. 
The good King realises that no wealth of gold and silver and precious 
jewels is so profitable as the wealth of true friendship (Themistius 1 17 c) 
and that the good-will of his people is his surest safeguard (Julian 1 48 a, 
Dio 11 51). Therefore he values, and is kept in safety by, the candid 
frankness of the friends whom he knows so well how to distinguish from 
the flatterers. His palace is guarded (Themistius v 67 b) by the ‘good 
counsel of a Nestor, the frank speech of a Diomed, by men like the 
Chrysantas of Cyrus or the Artabanos of Xerxes.’ Again we remember 
Creon, and again we notice that the commonplace is illustrated by most 
ancient precedent. So is the complementary thesis that the Tyrant hates 
the virtuous and has no true friends (Julian 1 43 d, Dio m1 55, vt 97). 
The ‘ground-tone,’ says Gomperz, of all the stock characterisation of the 
Tyrant is the theory that he ‘lives in fear.’ He fears, says Dio (v1 96), 
‘what is afar, because it is far off, and what is near because it is so close 
to his person: he suspects the threat of war from those who are at a 
distance, and from men near at hand he looks for a plot. Tyrants think 
all things are full of plots and ambushes. Each of them counts over to 
himself the stories of the deaths of kings and all the conspiracies that 
have ever been in the world.’ Oedipus, who cried out so bitterly against 
the hate and envy that Kingship meets in the world, is presently defend- 
ing his injustice to Creon by the plea of every Tyrant that his own safety 
requires vigilance. Well, when Lucian’s Phalaris explains that Tyrants 
needs must punish and must cause themselves to be feared, he puts it on 
the ground (11 p. 107) that, since their rule is a rule of force, they are 
surrounded by men who hate them and conspire against them. This same 
excellent Phalaris, before he came to be a Tyrant, was actually on the 
brink of laying down his legitimate authority because, as he says, 76 
apxev....civ dOdvw kaparypdy (11 105). But, of course, when all is said, 
the King’s best bodyguard is wisdom (Themistius 1 5b), and the most 
dangerous plotters against him are his own unruly passions (Themistius 
111 45 b). 

Nor is it only in relation to Creon that Oedipus is subject to the 
peculiar dangers and temptations that belong to Kingship. We have seen 
how he passes from an overweening confidence in his good Luck to the 
calamity which makes him for all men a warning of the uncertainty of 
human fortune and the need for Sophrosyne. Even so should all Kings 
find their supremacy in Virtue and in Wisdom, not in their high Fortune 
(Themistius v 67 a), whereas the usurping Tyrant ‘has enough good Luck 


176 APPENDIX 


to make him, in his confidence, reveal his evil nature and his craft’— 
then, ‘having enjoyed just so much authority as will bring his character 
to light,’ he is ‘snatched away even in the moment of discovery’ 
(Themistius vit 92d). We remember the close of the tragedy when we 
hear Julian’s ill-deserved congratulations (145 d)to an Emperor ‘not puffed 
up by good Luck, as was Alexander, who despised his own parents and 
claimed to be the son of Ammon’: ‘to win a little moment of good Luck, 
and to prosper for the moment—that is easy: but to preserve through 
life the good that is given is not so light a task’ (47 b). When Alexander 
captured his wounded enemy Porus and asked, ‘How shall I deal with 
you?’ the helpless man replied, ‘Deal with me as a King should deal’— 
for this, as Alexander himself realised, included all: it meant ‘sustaining 
with- humanity and modesty and gentleness and kindliness the present 
good fortune, remembering in the spirit that provokes not heaven’s 
jealousy how unstable is the poise of the scales of Luck.’ 

We have seen again, how Oedipus, for his benefaction to the State, 
is honoured as ‘Saviour,’ almost as a god. And we have noticed how this 
theme has been developed in the tragic sequel by the contrast of the 
earthly King with Zeus, and by the final delusion of the chorus which 
hails the hero as the son of a god. The basis of all this, we recognise, 
is given by the Homeric notion of the Zeus-born King, honoured ‘like 
a god’ among his people, and by the doctrine of Sophrosyne, as preached, 
for instance, by Pindar, which warns a King that, although he has reached 
the highest pitch of mortal happiness, he may not climb ‘the brazen 
heaven.’ For all that development see Themistius xv 193c. The common- 
place receives fresh value when Plato, insisting on the ruler’s need for 
virtue and philosophy, proceeds to say that philosophy is a ‘becoming as 
like as possible to the divine.’ Thus changed and enriched, the theme is 
common in Themistius (1 8d, 9a, 11 32d, v 64¢, IX 126c¢, xv 188 ff). 

By imitation of the gods, not by exacting worship from men, the 
King acquires the right to bear the titles of the gods. But how, exactly, 
shall he imitate the gods? By learning as Oedipus, according to our 
interpretation of the tragic exit, learns Sophrosyne: ‘If any man is to 
deserve the titles Saviour, Counsellor, Defender of the City, the very 
titles of Zeus, he must win the Sophrosyne and the Philosophia of Zeus’ 
(Ix 126¢). 


INDEX 


[Roman figures refer to pages in the Introduction, Arabic figures to the commen- 
tary, which is cited by lines, and not by pages.] 


I. SUBJECT 


abusiones of Sophocles, 33 
Achilles as type of Good King, 1 
Aeschylus, echoes of, in this play, xix, 
XXXV 
the Seven against Thebes of, xxii, xxiii, 
Ixy, lxxiv 
sin of Agamemnon in, liv 
Solon’s maxim in, Ixv 
Theban Trilogy of, xviii, xxiii 
the ‘unlawful gains’ theme in the 
Oresteia of, liii f. 
Agamemnon, temptation and fall of, liv 
Alcman, Partheneion of, lxv 
anger, trait of Kingship, 345 
warps the judgment, 26. 
Antigone, doctrine of dry in the, 609 
of inherited guilt in the, xxxv 
parallel from the, 626 
proclamation scene in the, 237 
Aristotle on Kingship, 31, 345, 383 


Bacchylides, motifs of ‘ Tyrant’ Ode in, 
xliii 
Croesus story in, lxvii ff. 
blood-pollution, survival of primitive view 
of, in Athens, xxiv 


Calchas, 1 
Cambridge performance of O.7., xi, 
6 


462 

Chorus, Sophocles’ use of the, illustrated, 
481, 863 ff. 

Creon, type of pious moderation, Ixxv, 


heres Ixii, xiii 

Cyrus, Herodotus’ story of the infant, 
parallels from, 718, 719, 981, 1153, 
1174 

daimon, =‘ genius,’ xxxvii 

Delphi, maxims inscribed on the temple 
at, lxi 


Electra of Sophocles, the, xxii 
envy, the proverbial penalty of greatness, 
80 


Eteocles, xx, xxiii 


Eulabeia, 613, 616, 617 


fear haunts the Tyrant, 65, 585 
fire, metaphor of destructive, 57, 205, 


47° 

friends, the Tyrant unable to recognise 
or trust, liv, 380 

Full Moon festival, allusion to, 1ogo 


good and evil, discernment of, withheld 
from men, 

‘good words,’ importance of speaking, 
xxi 


Heracles, type of physical strength which 
fails to avert calamity, lxi, n. 1 

Herodotus, illustrations from, xxxiin., 87, 
270, 280, 345, 718, 719, 981, 1153, 
1174 


Jocasta, character of, Ixxvii, 851 ff., 911, 
947+ 977, 1076, 1081 


King, the ideal Good, stock traits of, 6, 
65, 383, 576, 583, 585, 863, 865 
and Tyrant, the later commonplace of, 
App. pp. 172-176 


laurel-wreath, emblem of favourable re- 
sponse from Delphic oracle, 83 

Luck, the theme of, Ixxvi, 80, 110, 442, 
977, 1080, 1197 


Modest Measure, doctrine of the, in Hero- 
dotus, Ixii ff.; Aeschylus, lxiv, Ixv; 
the Lyric poets, lxv ff. ; Oedipus Colo- 
meus, \xxili, n. 1; end of this play, 
lxxv 

Mounet-Sully in Oedipus, lix, 163, 1088 


Oedipus legend, the, Homeric version of, 
xvi 
in lost Epics, xvii 
how treated by Aeschylus, xviii, xxiii 
Ocdipus Coloneus, \xxi 
oracles and signs, helping the good part 
to come true in ambiguous, 87, 151 


178 


Pindar, the individual Daimon in, xxxiv 
the Modest Measure in, Ixxi, Ixxviii 
‘unjust gains’ mo/zf in, li 
Pittacus, xxxi 
plague, associated with blight and sterility, 
25, 171 

proverbial phrases, 31, 34, 65, 110, 130, 
316, 356, 371, 380 ff., 398, 413, 438, 
499» 544, 595, 609, 611, 613, 628, 
914 ff., 977, 1081, 1147, 1197, 1231, 
1528 


Reinhardt, his production of O. 7., ix, 
xx 
riddle of the Sphinx, the, xvii 


Seven aaginert Thebes, the, xxii, 1, 23, 65, 
107 

ship, the State figured as a, 23 

Simonides on Virtue, xxxi 

Solon, Ixi, Ixii, xiii 

Sophrosyne, xxxix, lviii, 1x, Ixii ff., 874, 
1080 


Teiresias, his prescience limited, 285, 305, 
391 


INDEX 


Theognis, xxxviii, 609 

Thucydides, illustrations from, xxxii n., 
lili, 25, 180, 380 ff., 383, 617, 618, 
885, 977, 1528 

Time as test of truth and virtue, 613 

Trachiniae (491), 1231 

truth, safety in, 386 

Tyrant or Bad King, traditional character- 
istics of the, 6, 65, 380, 530, 541, 585, 
609, 626, 865, 890 

‘Tyrant’ ode, significance of the, xii, xli ff. 


‘unjust gains’ motif, the, xlviii ff. 


voluntary and involuntary crime, import- 
ance of the distinction between, xxix, 
Xxx 


wealth, proverbially associated with King- 
ship, 380 ff. 
and poverty, the theme of, 380 ff. 
excessive, forefather of Insolence and 
Ruin, 874 


Zeus, the gne true king, contrasted with 
earthly rulers, 18, 200, 903, 1197 


INDEX 179 


II. GREEK 

dyveis, 676, 677 6r€Opiov, 1341 
déixia, divisions of, lvii, 888 6p0bv, 87, 505, 853, 1221 
adgnoral, xviii ép0odv, 46 
dé? obdevds, 972 érav, dramatic use of, 618, 655 
dppyr’ appirwv, 463 
dpwyds, 127 wdvTa Kpareiv, 1517 

mwerpatos 6 ravpos, 478 
SdorHvos, 1155, 1302, 1308 wpoorarns, 40 


tuppdpos Oedbs, 6, 27 
&xovra, 1230 


éitévra, 87 puoalunv, 72 
ératiws, 133 
émlixovpos, 127 orépéavres, II 
érros, 508 ouppopd, 33, 833 
evdaiuwv, xxix n- cuvaddayh, 33 
ovv 0g, 43 
Hyouny, 775 
HOeor, 16 TéAn AdEw, 316 
TAHMOV, L175 
Oodgev, 2 76de, with explanatory noun, 101, 109, 442 


tupavvls, 128, 380, 408 
katpés, Ix, lxi, Ixxi n., Ixxiv, n. I, 2,  TUpavvos, 514 


151 
sake 96, 508, 1421 vretedev, 227 
képdos, 300, 388, 595 
kparetv, 54 GIMN, 43 
P0ovetv, 624 
HGpa, 434 Ppovnots, 543, 583 
vymios, 651 Xaipe, 596 


vods, 1347 xpéos, 155 


























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